My beautiful Sam. 7th October 1992

I have been reading of late about an organization that takes photos of babies that have passed away and got to thinking that YES, these children deserve to be recognized in years to come. They deserve to have proof that they were in fact here.  When our 3rd Son Samuel was born, NOTHING prepared me for what was to be, except my faith and the strength that I had from deep within my soul.  So here is Sams Story and I record this on his 20th birthday.

The white flags, as my neighbour put it were gleaming as white as white on the clothesline in preparation for the exciting birth of our 3rd child. It let the neighbours know that the time was nearly here and the nappies were fresh and bright.  It was a relief to be over the dreaded morning sickness which was in fact a 24/7 sickness.  I couldnt even look at the old lino that resembled crushed weetbix or the bright green palm leafed wallpaper. (whoever decorated that place never experienced nausea)

I had had a dream of a young man coming to visit me from the Spirit World and invited me to see where he lived. I knew he was a spirit and the world in which he lived was a happy place. Full of many people and yes, he even had  a piano and someone was playing it. There was lots of singing and just happiness all around. After looking around for a while, he turned to me and told me it was time to go back. (I was about 5 months pregnant and never really thought about this again much at all.  I was so used to having spiritual dreams)

It was October and I felt on top of the world, Josh was in yr 1 and Michael was to start pre-school, so my days during the school hours the following year would be spent nurturing a little baby and having time one on one.  Oh how wrong I was, the emptiness that consumed me was absolutely gut wrenching.

Samuel Reid Lammi was born on the 7th October, 1992, weighing in at a healthy 7lb 5oz and measuring a length of only 19 inches.

He was my 3rd Csection of 5.  I would have had 10 if the Drs had let me.

He was perfect and had a mass of dark dark hair. A Lammi he definately was.  He was born in the afternoon  at nearly 2pm, so after I got back to the ward I was able to have him with me for at least 5 hours.  Both Gary and I were once again besotted by the presence of a baby fresh from Heaven, so beautiful so perfect.

I was totally exhausted and in a lot of pain, but none the less was able to have him on my chest and listen to him breath and gurgle, and wriggle and squirm. He opened his eyes the minute he was placed in my arms and looked straight up at me and focused for what seemed like about 15 seconds and then drifted back to sleep knowing that his Mummy had him. EVERY baby knows the sound of their Mothers voice.

My Parents arrived at the hospital with Josh and Michael and the boys couldn't keep their little hands off of him. Josh had even drawn a picture to give him and so we put it in his crib, after that I don't exactly know what happened to it. I wished I did.  They had already left cheezel crumbs in his hair and I wished that those crumbs wouldn't have been washed out later.

As the night came on and Gary left to go back to my Parents, I ask the girl next to me if she wouldn't mind taking him into the nursery for the night, as that was where they were put back then.  NEVER in my wildest dreams would it have occurred to me that that would be the last time I would get to hold him while he was alive.

At about 4:30am a Doctor and a Nurse came and woke me up to report to me that my Baby Samuel was having trouble breathing and that they had found a hole in his lung. This is NOT what any Mother wants to hear at all. My heart stopped beating to the same drum from then on out.

Gary was phoned and was up at that hospital before I had time to blink. It was like a bad dream. I just wanted to wake up and realise that that's all it was.

As the morning wore on, things got worse and his other lung developed holes and he had air sacks on the outside of them. One very sick little boy.

As a young girl growing up in the LDS church and believing in the power of prayer and healing through priesthood blessings, I saw my Father perform many many faith promoting blessings.  So I hailed my Father up and pleaded with him to please save my Sam. Not that Gary couldn't do the same thing, he could, but I truly believed that my Father had the highest connections with God himself.

After the blessing both Gary and my Father came back to me and Dad leaned across, gave me a big hug and said "He will be alright, I know it"  

As soon as I could, I managed to get out of bed and into a wheelchair and into the CCU where I would sit and just stare at my Sam.  I would listen to his breathing that had a whistle to it because of the tubes.  

Even though he was completely sedated the nurse pointed something out to me that I will NEVER forget. She told me that over the years of her nursing, she has noticed that these little babies whether they are conscious or not, seem to recognize when their Mothers are near and especially touch them.  She told me to put my hand in and watch his saturation levels (or something like that) drop. It was true, so I sat there all day stroking him as best I could in between the Dr's and Nurses working on him.

It was literally a roller coaster ride. One hour he'd be doing fine, the next he'd be down.  I sat there willing him to live with every ounce of energy I had all the time with Gary by his side as well. 

Even though I was a public patient the nurses were kind enough to put me into a private room and set up a bed for Gary alongside me. I will NEVER forget that act of kindness.

Day 2 was very much the same as the previous.  Up and Down, Up and Down.

Day 3 came and I was within myself feeling much better physically and had a shower, washed my hair and dried it off.  I looked at Gary and said, "Today's the day for Sam to rise above it"  little did I realise those words were not what I understood them to be.

He had taken a turn for the worse and they had called the Dr up early.  I was sent to a little room with Gary where a Nurse was busy showing me how to express milk and store it. Distraction or whatever, I felt removed from what would be a normal behaviour to a more intense " intune with the Spirit" kind of behaviour. Hard to explain, but it was like my Father in Heaven was talking to me and was trying to get my attention.

Previous to this, Dr Roper had told me that his chances were really, fairly good and this is what babies did. They're up, they're down. 

So, when the Nurse finished doing what she was doing and left,  Gary and I were just there staring at each other, I closed my eyes and listened to what my Father in Heaven was trying to tell me. It was peaceful and ever so strong. I looked up at Gary and said "I think Sam is needed more on the other side"  

I can honestly say that it takes alot of faith and courage to will someone to live, A WHOLE lot more to let them go and hand them back. 

Within 10 minutes his little over-worked heart just stopped and no amount of anything would start it again. I quietly walked back with Gary to the room and waited for the Dr to come in and tell me the news.  He came over and put his hand on my shoulder and just shook his head.  

I reached into my inner soul and just wrenched with heartache like I've never had before.  I would have died right then and there if it meant Sam could live. Even though I felt like I had given him back, I didn't want to let him go. 

That day was literally the hardest day of my life. I remember sitting in the corridor with my Mother waiting for Gary to get the car ( as I was allowed to go home,)  knowing that I was leaving with empty arms.  Young Mothers were everywhere with their newborns and I just wanted the floor to swallow me up.  I sat in the back of the car and just cried and groaned all the way home to my Mothers place.

That night after Gary had drifted off to sleep and Dad was still downstairs I crept into my Mothers bedroom, where I found her on her knees crying as well.  She quickly ended her prayer and ushered me into her bed and just held me until I drifted into sleep. At the age of 34 I still needed that tender touch and warm embrace from my Mother.

The next day was a Sunday and we were meeting with the funeral guy who came to the house. My Branch Pres. Michael Brazier came as well and gave me strength beyond his knowing.  I didn't even want to look at the funeral director, it was all too real. Nancy Webb sat up all night making a beautiful little outfit to dress him in. My Mother, my Sister Narelle and my good friend Linda all went over to the funeral home the next morning to dress him, "Simple Acts of Kindness" that meant the most to me.  I couldn't bare to go to the funeral home. (now when I look back, I wished I could have and given that final act of Mothering him)

The funeral was beautiful and we had a viewing for close friends and family. He looked perfect and looked like he was just sleeping. I just wanted to reach in and pick him up. No stress on his little face at all. His skin was smooth like silk and he resembled his brothers to a T.  I imagine that he would have looked just like them to this day. 

As they were lowering his casket down there was this bird that was singing really loudly, it was a Rainbird I think.  I call it Sams bird, because whenever I hear those birds sing out I remember that day.

I don't write this account for sympathy or sadness, I write it because its still fresh in my memory after 20 years. I write it because I know that if I put it on here, it will be kept and might just bring hope to someone else.  

I know without a shadow of a doubt that Sam was never meant to stay long, but long enough for me to recognize this. It gives me strength to know that there is life after death and that Sam  never has to prove himself to anyone. It gives me strength to know that I WILL see him again one day. 

I wish I could allow all grieving Parents to look into my head and see what I saw in my dream. It wasn't until after Sam had died that I remembered seeing him in my dreams. How Blessed was I.

So Sam, happy 20th birthday. Sometimes it feels like yesterday that you were here with us. I can still smell you and hear your breathing.  I can still feel the movement within my womb when you were healthy and kicking.  I never got to hear you cry much. The only cry that was uttered out of your mouth was a soft little lamb like baa, but that will do.

Take fresh courage people who have lost and are grieving, it is not the end. This life is just a twinkle, it is just a passing moment compared to the endless life that is ahead of us.  Everything will be restored, lost will be found and emptiness replaced with fullness. We all know what to do. 

It is a rich and an abundant blessing to know that Families are Forever. 

This wonderful Nurse called Betty took some photos for me at which some people might not like to look at. Viewer discretion please.  I just want to post them here so that when the originals fade, which they are, I can still have them to look at. Unfortunately we only got one photo of Sam when he was alive, so for me to be able to take a photo of the originals, put them into instagram and enhance them was like out of this world. So if you dont want to look at them, dont, but please DO NOT leave any negative comments.

I once had someone say to me "why would you want to look at a photo of him in which he is dead?" Im sorry but I only have those to look at.

This is the only one I have of Sam alive and he had his face turned away from the camera.

Until we meet again.

LAUGA STREET

 Front of house

 Backyard

 And Mums famous kitchen.  How many people have washed up here??

This morning I was talking to my neighbor over the fence and her grandson Cooper, who just lost his tooth.  When I walked back inside I couldnt help but reflect upon my childhood and the street I grew up in, Lauga Street.  Lauga Street, well our side of the railway track consisted of 19 houses. Just enough for a cosy little street who looked out for each other. And the Vaughan sisters who lived right next to the tracks.
Now this was no ordinary street as the most of the kids who grew up here were still visiting their elderly parents in the 90's.  I was living there from 3 yrs to 23 yrs (M & D actually built the house when they were first married and rented it out and moved back in when I was 3) and up until about I was about 44 (6 years ago) most of them were still there.  This is very unusual in todays world.

1.  Smith Family, I went to school with Barbara, she had the best barbie dolls, hahaha wonder why.
2.  The Schneider Family, Mr Schneider had the best Gerbras in the Street but was a horrible man, he used to put the hose on my dog.  I could never stand him at all, Im sure he had his good points. 
3. The Bensons, they had a big home made double swing which us Ward kids used for years and years and even the Grandkids used. The swings are now taken off and the frame is used as a trellis for growing vegies.  They had the best mulberry tree I have ever seen.  Many a pie was made from that tree.  Mum used to get Mrs Benson to come across into the kitchen and turn off the oven which was cooking the Sunday roast, while we were at church. No oven timers in those days. I will never forget the last time I saw Mrs Benson. She was on a stretcher being taken to hospital and I wheeled Mum over to say goodbye. And it was the final Goodbye.  They had 2 children and everytime Mum was pregnant he would say "Not another one Joyce"  So when they were in the later years and we all rolled on home for Christmas etc, we made a point of going over to visit as they were quite lonely with both their children living in Sydney.
4. The Wards..........a roudy bunch of brats. 6 of us all up.  Our home was like a railway station with people coming and going, eating and sleeping.  Mum could cook up a storm with a packet of peas and a chook. Our table was always one that held alot of food and alot of people.  The house was a double story kinda house that Mr fix-it (Dad) built.  I miss that house immensely.  It even had its own pool, well kind of.  Dad had a 1/2 water tank that us kids placed under the shed roof so that we could jump off the roof into the pool. Dont know how we ever survived or never broke our legs, desperate I guess to cool off in Rocky's humidity. 
5. The Merry Family who rented their house out from time to time....When they moved back I was 14. Their clothes line had fallen over nearly to the ground, was the same about 3 years ago. When you look at the washing its all crooked.  Mrs Merry loved chooks and would sit in the back yard and hold and pat them like kittens. A very simple kind of family.
6. The Pegg Family..........envy of the neighborhood as they had a lovely inground pool.  Didnt have much to do with them though and therefore didnt get to swim in it.  But, I do remember standing and looking out the back louvres when they were in it, wishing I was too. 
7. The Bensons (relatives of the first Bensons)... Their house was painted chocolate brown. Reminded me of a huge chunk of chocolate, maybe thats why I love chocolate so much.
8. Mrs somethingorrather. (Poll I think)..........Lovely old gentle Lady who I used to go down and talk to over the front fence of an afternoon after school.
9. The Bloxoms.......snobby family who had two snooby kids. Their daughter was a bully. Every street has one.

 Across the road I didnt have anything to do with them except opposite our house.  The Featherstones were only there until I was about 13 and then sold their house to the Housing Commission. Say no more.  The Morris' left too when I was about 14. Took their mongrel dobermans as well, thank goodness. I was petrified of them.  The Barnes Family lived on the corner and The Vaughan Sisters over from them on another street.
The Vaughans, Beulah and Vera (sisters and spinsters) played a huge part in our family. Beulah taught me the piano, Vera taught me to crotchet. Between the two of them they worked in unison running their household and had a few tiffs between them.
Beulah was the gentle one who played the piano beautifully, sewed all her own clothes, embroidered and crotched patterns on them and cooked  and spoke articulately. Vera on the other hand did all the above except didnt play the piano very much but could swing an axe and split wood like any man could. I wont go into her driving skills, as I think if it wasnt for higher intervention I wouldnt be here.  I can still smell their brown bread and taste their dew dew fruit. Vera had this long silky white hair that she rolled up just like popeyes wife Olive.  Vera died first and I will never forget seeing Beulah break down in tears. It was a very solemn moment. 

 Most of us walked to school, crossing the railroad tracks to the other side of Lauga Street and up to the back of the school oval.
I remember pinching 20 cents out of Mums purse one day when I was about 7 and running to the shop to get some lollies while Mum was busy with something else.  Mrs White, around the corner (yes we knew the whole block just about) caught me and sent me home :(  In fact sometimes I used her yard to get to the shops faster as they backed onto our back yard.

As the years rolled on, we all grew up, got married, some moved away,  had kids of our own, and sadly drifted apart. Not many Parents are left here on this earth. I think out of our side of the street theres Mr Benson, Dad and Mrs Merry. Mr Benson, Mrs Merry still reside there.
Gosh Ive been going on, but its mainly for my benefit as in ten years time if I havent got this recorded I may forget.  Heaven knows I cant even remember now what.......(cant remember what I was going to say) lol
So sorry if I bore you, but Im sure my siblings would be happy reading this. :)

Everyone needs an Aunty May who squeezes you to death and just about jumps over the moon to see you. I have a lot of fond memories of Aunty May, some very funny.  She reminds me so much of Mum and even has the same soft skin. So while the Ward Family had a little get together at Beaches Resort via Rockhampton, we dropped in to see her.

I looked like I had arrived in a topless car.

How the weeks fly by and before I know it, its nearly the end of September and I havent written on my blog.
My Neice wrote on her facebook page that 2012 can eat her shorts, well it can eat mine as well. Except mine will be bigger lol. Alot bigger.
Its only another 9 more weeks until Elder Michael Lammi gets home and I must say, Im starting to get a little excited. I have missed him dearly.

Jesse is putting his mission papers in in November and hopes to leave early 2013. I will miss him dearly too. :(

Jesse is always a hit with the girls.
Tristen just hits up the gym.

I am so looking forward to this Christmas having us all together with our first Grandchild. There will be lots of swimming and BBQs for this family as the whether is expected to be HOT HOT HOT.
Gary and I have already tested out the beach this year. Too cold to swim but the water was absolutely beautiful and so we are hoping for a wonderful summer of swimming.  How blessed we are to live in such a great part of the world.

Of course the last photo is of how I would like to look :)


Gary has been transferred with his work up to another mine with the added bonus of a payrise. Yeehaa!! We need it to support these boys and their missions. Blessed, blessed, blessed.

Josh, Emily and Jayden are off to the USA on Wednesday for three weeks. Wish I was going with them. One day I'll get there and what a great day it will be.
Jayden is growing up so fast. Is now crawling and probably trying to walk. His Mother tells me that his head cops a beating with all the falling over.

Had a feed of chocolate. Theres goodness in every bite Jayden. See the smiley face.
He is such a cutie.  I just wish that we were able to see him more often.  Being a faraway Grandma sucks.
I envy those who have their Grandchildren in the same town.

Michael and his new companion from Cambodia.  He makes Michael look like a giant.
He will be really good for Michael. He has only been a member for 2 1/2 years and is well rather poor.
It will be a humbling experience.

Its been a very long two long weeks, with teenagers, cousins, visitors and training at work for new sewing machines that came in. Gosh I wish I could afford the one I trained on today. Who has a spare $10,000.
Yep, thats right, ten grand!
All the while I was sitting there I was thinking of the many beautiful things that my Mother/Grandmother/sisters/myself/Aunts etc etc have made with just the standard sewing machine. No fancy stitches by machine...all hand done, no computerized designs.  Theres something to be said about that.

Mind you we got to spend a few days in Toowoomba with Josh, Emily and Jayden.  It was so good to have some time to relax, shop, cuddle and eat.  Love love love my little Grandson. He is such a cute kid and is really growing up so fast.  Wished we lived closer.