The baby bunny and my baby

Saturday, after being out all day, I got home at 10pm.  The first thing I did was go to the back yard to bring Ruba (our black lab) in for the night.  She always feels obligated to find her ball or a toy (usually small stuffed animals) as soon as she see's me coming toward the sliding door.  So, no surprise to me, as I'm opening the door she quickly turns away looking to grab a toy to bring in to show me and hope to get me to play with her.

When she picked up the toy, in the darkness, I heard a shriek.  I immediately knew a small animal had managed to get into the back yard.  As she excitedly jumped and held the animal in her mouth to show me, I thought it was a mouse by it's size but as I struggled to release it from her mouth and got it into my hand I realized it was a baby bunny (the picture in this post is not of the actual bunny but of similar size).

While Ruba was trying to hold the bunny (who was promptly named Peter by Brooke) as gently as she could, it appeared she had picked it up and played with it for quite awhile before I got home.  The injuries were to be fatal, but it lingered still trying to move and writhe around.

I placed peter on a soft wash cloth, gently holding him and called my husbands cell phone for help on what to do.  He didn't answer, he was out at the boat and had gone visiting a neighbors boat.  

Brooke had tears streaming down her face, desperately trying to get me to run the bunny to an emergency vet.  Too many wounds, death was inevitable and so I managed to get Brooke to bed and gently sat the baby bunny on my night stand praying to God to let it stop breathing so I could know it was no longer suffering.

3 more unanswered phone calls to my husband.  45 minutes of desperation watching this little baby suffer.  I knew I should put it out of it's misery but the only thing I could think of was to smash it's head, I couldn't do it.

Tim finally saw my missed calls and called me right away.  I told him what happened.  He knew I couldn't physically kill it so he recommended I wrap it in the wash cloth and put in the freezer and it would die quicker but somewhat peacefully.  I agreed and hung up.  I got to the bedroom doorway and couldn't continue.  I knew what had to be done but I could not bring my tender heart to act.

MOTHER'S GIVE LIFE, NOT TAKE LIFE!  Anguish over took me.  "Please God, ease his suffering." And then, the connection.................my baby, my dear son Tyler.  I had been given the courage and strength to ease his suffering and have him removed from the respirator but I felt totally helpless looking at this wounded baby bunny. 

I called Crystal and she could sense my emotion as I told her my predicament.   She quickly said she would be right home and would bring her boyfriend to help.

I handed the bunny off to Crystal and sat back on my bed and started sobbing.  It had been so long since the raw emotion's of Tyler's death pierced my heart.  Time really can heal if you let it.  But this night, time disappeared and the loss of my baby surfaced.

The deed was done quickly and the bunny was respectfully buried.  It has been 2 days now and still the weight of losing Tyler is felt heavy again in my heart.  Time must take it's blessed task and move me forward to heal again.  Off we go.

The Dad in the orange hat

The Daddy-Daughter Olympics were recently held on our church grounds.  Brooke has, over the past 2 years since her father died, consistently asked my husband, Tim (wearing the orange hat), if she could call him dad.  It started immediately after her father died and Tim didn't feel comfortable allowing this out of respect for her father.  He said if he died, it would devastate him if his daughter's tried to replace him so quickly.

Fast forward 2 years......now he's Dad!  And along with that title comes Daddy-Daughter responsibilities.  

Important to realize, Tim is not a member of our church, 'though he's a rockin' good guy, just somewhat a never-wanting-to-have-any-obligation-to-join-the-church sort of person.  He will go mow the lawn if he gets home from work and realizes the missionary's or visiting/home teachers are in the house.  He doesn't want to be anyone's "project" so to speak.

"Dad, will you take me to the Daddy-Daughter Olympics at the church next Saturday morning?"  "Of course I will."

I decided to go to take pictures (really for moral support).  On the way to the church, Tim asked, "so now that I'm going to this, am I going to get church people stopping by the house every other day?"  I laughed, "no, just once a week."

So these pictures show my husband playing with his new daughter and some of the best Priesthood holders in the church.  To me he was rubbing shoulders with heaven.  Heavenly father, as he usually does, uses the small and simple things of the world to show his power and love...Tim went to the church...he even went inside to get a drink...and he didn't get struck by lightening!   Progress!