Thursday, January 23, 2014

On the Mend..

My wife and me.

HOLY SAD BATMAN. Time to get over it.

Unfortunately it is not that simple. We (Molly and I) are better than yesterday. Are we fixed? NO. Can we be fixed? NO. No longer are we talking about Evelyn's death as a life ending event but we have begun to speak of it as a part of our lives. We have begun to hold back the tears, hide ourselves away from others and fall back into each other. This is not because of a wanting to be exclusive but people who love us, like us, or know what happened want to "FIX" things. This shit you can't fix. You have to learn to live with it not try and fix it. Some days are sad and other are happy, I have no idea how long the days that the sadness consumes us and we have to give into the tears will last but I also don't care. I loved my daughter and it would be a disservice to her memory to give in to the sadness everyday.


1. Don't compare our loss to yours. Everyone has grief has grief and my grief is never going to be the same as yours. I will not pretend to understand your pain but I have been in a dark place and would love to help you thru yours.

2. For the love of GOD do not tell me "man, you look great for what happened to you"or "I am not sure how you are getting out of bed, I would be a mess if I was you". You all are trying to say we look strong or good but maybe just say that? Saying you would be doing worse than me makes me feel like I am not sad enough.

3. When in doubt just ask. If you want to know how I am feeling ask, don't be surprised when I say I can't talk about it.

But onto the point of this blog.

I went on a climbing trip. I have left my job. I am starting a new business. I am going on another trip.

Over the 1st of the year I headed to Arkansas to go on a climbing trip with the YOUNG STRONG KIDS Noah, Wei, Tyler. It was probably the most fun I have had in a long time and the smile on my face lasted most of the trip.

We climbed some amazing boulders and it was a blast out climbing Noah for once and the YOUNG strong kids did not disappoint.

I had 1 objective and that was to climb 2 boulders on the top 100 boulders in NA King lion, and Daily Planet. We killed off the first one Daily Planet on the first day and a number of other boulders we wanted to try.

Wei and I spent a few days trying King Lion (v11-12) and I was able to put it together after punting off the highest point of the climb and landing on top of Noah then rolling down the hill. I was uninjured but that was by far the scariest fall of my life and I was lucky to walk away.

Wei got stupid close but he also took a fall onto his face which put some voices in his head that I am sure he will silence when (if) he goes back.

Wei on the King Lion Crux 

The King Lion boulder 

The Ranch

The crew of strong kids, I fell from where Wei is about (on the face not the slab)

The young guns around Minnesota are probably the strongest crop in awhile. All of them can kill v10 in a few tries and I hope they can kill off some projects in Minnesota so I don't have to.

As I said earlier I have left my job and will be starting a new business. I will post more info later but I am very happy and thankful for the oportunity that Sigg gave me and I learned a ton.

Sunday, December 22, 2013


 Evelyn's baptism 


I find love to be frustrating at times. As a teenager I dropped the word Love like it was a job. I have loved new bands, cities, girls, and things but when I pull out my microscope and zoom in on the word and my use of it over the years I realize that for most things I was wrong. My idea of love has been vastly flawed.

I was sitting behind a bus. The day was cold, filled with snow, and dreadful to be outside. As I stood still in traffic the cars would accelerate and stop with smoke pouring from their exhaust like dragons breathing fire.

I hate it here. Every part about it. I hate the snow, I hate the humid summers, and most of all I HATE THE COLD. Why do I live here? LOVE. I love Molly, Molly wants to live here. I love my family, my family lives here.

I have never needed someone more than I need Molly, she is my soul and gets me out of bed most mornings. As Christmas approached my depression has gotten worse. I never really dreamed or thought of many things about being a dad but I did think a lot about Christmas. I thought about what I would buy my daughter, what I would dress her up in, I dreamed about shopping with her for her mothers gift, I LOVED the idea of Christmas.

I HATE Christmas. I am jealous of all of you with children. I hate the idea of waking up in a childless house the morning of christmas and walking in to an empty child's room then downstairs to a tree only half full of presents. Instead of gifts this Christmas we have purchased our child a gravestone.

I LOVE my daughter. I love her hands, feet, and my memories of holding her. I loved her sent (Which has finally faded from her blankets given to use by the hospital staff). I LOVE HER intensely and the mechanism which I have used to compartmentalize my sadness and feels has become over loaded by the loss of my daughter and my inability to protect her.

I love my friends, I love my wife, I love my family, I love climbing, and I love lamp. I also LOVE the idea of better. Not in forgetting her memory of Evelyn but eventually filling this house with brothers, sisters, or whatever God will allow us to have with children for Eve to look after from above.

I love you Eve. I wish everyday to wake up from this nightmare. It doesn't seem real. I have written about how you changed me as a man but I also want to let you know that my idea of LOVE is forever changed. In 4 seconds you filled my heart to its fullest and in 9 hours I learned how broken our family can be. You also taught me to love your mother more. More today that I ever thought possible and even greater than if you were still with us. The trauma of loosing you has forced your Mom and I to fully give into one another and the LOVE to its deepest point.

I love you Molly, I will endure this hell called Minnesota for you..... and that says a lot. I could not do this without out you. You are my partner in crime.

Your dad,


Sunday, December 1, 2013

The Return.

Molly and I quit Facebook.

I have deleted and rewritten this post now 4 times. I am sick of writing so I am going to just put it out there in a harder/ untrimmed version that you as adults can review and take in as you see fit... Here we go.

I feel like shit. Absolute, total, shit. As I said... Untrimmed. 

How am I supposed to feel? On a daily bases I get emails asking how my wife and new baby are from customers that do not know the story. Even better from some asshole (untrimmed) or asshole'et at the grocery store, mall, or coffee shop asking Molly when she is due. 

Molly and I started counseling last week and I find it to be soothing. I have always found it easy to share my feelings but those of you who know me when I am mad, sad, or overwhelmed I shut down and compartmentalize. I have somewhere along the line leaned to avoid conflict at all costs. Loosing Evelyn has overwhelmed my system and I am unable to box away my sadness and function as if nothing was wrong. 

Something is very wrong, if fact everything is wrong. 

I do not have a child this Christmas. I am avoiding a room of my house. I am having a hard time not crying during the day. I am really broken. 

I have tried to distract myself with a number of things. I find that work is helping the most and the least at times. At the end of each day the result is the same and the feeling of "better" is nowhere in sight.  This week we learned that our time of grieving needs to be ours. Molly and I grieve differently but we are learning to adjust and support each other and that over time we may not be "better" but be able to cope with the loss in a way that lets our everyday return to some sense of "normal". 

I use the word "normal" because I am finding a new sense of what "normal" is. I do not want to return to the life I lived before Evelyn but use her life as a starting point that Molly and I can begin a new. I was so happy before my baby left us and I would like to not return to that level of happiness but exceed it by doing things that make us happy. Children, time together, Rock climbing, love, and church are all in that picture. Facebook is not. Facebook did nothing to increase my happiness nor did it Molly's therefore it is OUT, COOKIES are in. 

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Evelyn's Memorial Service

Evelyn's memorial service will take place Friday October, 25th 2013 at 6pm at Saint Andrews church.

All are welcome.


-Nic and Molly

Monday, October 21, 2013



You lived on this earth for 9 hours and 43 minutes. I have been thinking of how much time we as people waste on this earth. We waste time wondering how we look, holding grudges, drinking, eating too much, hating, and just not living. I changed in 4 seconds from a boy who wastes his time to a man who valued every second you were alive. You taught me in 9 hours and 43 minutes to LOVE unconditionally, GIVE infinitely, and not WASTE MY TIME. As I sit here at my in-laws I think of how lucky we are to have the family and mostly how lucky I am to have my WIFE, your mother Molly. Molly has been the light on my dark days, my joy during pain, and my shoulder to cry on. Over the last 3 days your mother and I have become closer than we ever thought possible, we owe that to you.

I have realized that you would have been a smothered child. Your mom and my friends, family, and outside acquaintances could not wait to meet you. When you passed we fell and these people are picking us back up. We know you are above us telling us to "shake it off" like your mother tells me and "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" like I tell your mother. We are starting to listen and each day is getting better.

We still miss you, we still cry, but we know God has us in one hand and you in another.

Your daddy,


To Our Friends,

We cannot tell you how much your love has meant to Molly and I. We could not do it without you. Our journey into parenthood has been painful and trying and have often needed privacy quickly followed by a shoulder to cry on. We are not sure on the details but we most likely be having a service on Friday October, 25th in White Bear Lake/ Mahtomedi. More details will follow but I wanted to put it out there for people who will be traveling from out of town. All are welcome.

Today is better than yesterday and that is a gift from God.

(Side note)

Many of my friends are atheist or agnostic. I understand your stance on God but at this time I ask you to understand that our faith is getting us through the rough days and God holding our child is our reality. I am not asking you to believe in God but humor us by praying for Evelyn, Molly, our Families, and myself.

Your friends,

Molly and Nic

Sunday, October 20, 2013


My baby, close to my heart. Forever. 

I miss you so much. Today I found myself dealing with the pain of your loss. The pain I felt was insignificant to the pain I am sure you endured to make it into this world. As your father I was expected to protect you, care for you, hold you when you cry, and be there for you from now until the day I sleep. I never imagined this outcome, how could I? Things were perfect, you were/are perfect, and I am the one with flaws. I hurt today more than I have ever hurt before. I know you see me sitting in my car listening to "Butterfly Kisses" crying until I feel sick. I am dead to emotion, pain, and all forms of reality. I get out of bed for your mother because I know she needs me but I battle with myself all day to not return to that bed and find the end.

I love you more than you can ever know, I am changed and I want you back, I am ready to be your daddy, my thoughts before this were flawed and immature, I need you back.

My memories of you are bright. I loved seeing you fight for us and I know you stayed long enough to hear your mother's voice. As I stood next to your bedside I thought of how I failed you. I know I failed you as a father and I am so sorry I could not keep you alive.

I selfishly found myself driving near parks, play-sets, and children thinking of how I wanted to teach you things. Even though you are a girl I wanted to take you to my fathers house/ your bompa's house and build swords or princess things in his shop like I did with my grandfather. I think of how when I built my climbing wall I put holds on for you. I dreamed of taking you climbing, fishing, camping, and teaching you to ride a bike. You were doomed to be a tom-boy from the beginning. Your mother would have fought it but I would have pushed back telling her "my daughter will not be able to date until 18 but she will be able to change her own oil!" it would have been a battle I am sure and I really know deep down inside I would spend more Saturday's at dance competitions than climbing gyms.

I promise you that if I could kill myself to bring you back I would but at this point that would be selfish, pointless, and more loss for your mother. Evelyn, you are my baby girl. I will die with you next to my heart. I have hope to wake tomorrow feeling a little better but need you flying above me. Stay close my dear for this path is dark and I need some light to show me the way.

I love you baby, I wish I could hold you now.

Your daddy,



Me and my baby. 

The loss of the life of my little girl. The feeling of losing something irreplaceable. Being lost as a human without understanding of what God is doing. 

Our daughter, Evelyn Ann, had a beautiful beginning. Two people choosing to create life. There is nothing more incredible than this process. It is more than having sex or making love. It is the waiting after ovulation to pee on a stick. It is the first time you call the doctor’s office and tell them your’e pregnant! It is the announcement to your family, the change in diet, the painting of the nursery, the constant flow of dreams as to what they will look like and how they will be their own human. It is the time when you find out if you are having a boy or a girl and the subsequent list of names you create together thinking about how this child, growing inside of you, will live up to their given name. It is wondering what their personalities will be. Will she like dance or rocks? Will she have a lisp? Will her eyes look like mine or Nic’s? Of course they were blue. Evelyn’s eyes were blue. 

As I sit here holding the blanket my daughter was wrapped in during her time at Children’s Hospital’s NICU, all I can think about is how special she was, is. 

On October 18th, 2013 I could only process each moment as it came. I watched midnight hit and started pushing. My partner in crime, my coach, my love, my rock, my constant companion and love of my life stood next to me telling me I was doing great. Telling me tips because he could see the progress of our daughter through the birth canal. His voice guided us both, Evelyn and me, through the birth process and continued to be the line I followed through the hours ahead. 

At 3:36am Evelyn’s head passed through me and her long, lean body (just like her dad) followed. She was perfect. We had listened to her heartbeat through the entire three and a half hours of pushing. We had the best team. Doctor’s, nurses, Nic, and me. Everyone with the same goal: Evelyn delivered to us safely. 

When the doctor and nurses lay Evelyn on my chest I immediately knew something was wrong. She wasn’t breathing and although she was on my chest, the nurses’ hands never left my baby girl. As soon as the umbilical cord was cut, she was gone. Over to the the warming bed in the corner. I didn’t get to hold my baby alive ever again. 

I fell asleep. What kind of mother falls asleep while their baby is transported to another hospital strapped to a special bed, full of tubes and wires? What kind of mother allows doctors and nurses to convince her that everything will be okay when every part of her being is screaming the opposite? When I woke up and called the NICU Evelyn had flatlined. They had resuscitated her multiple times. The only thing keeping me sane was knowing that Evelyn had her dad. 

Nic continued to be the only person I trusted. I only wanted to talk to him. I would only listen to what he said. He became the dad I always knew he would be. Strong, confident, truthful. He was two steps ahead while all I could do was follow moment to moment. 

He told me he was having me transferred and I moved to be with my family. When I was wheeled into the NICU, I was able to talk to Evelyn. I told her I was proud of her. I told her she needed to be brave, that she needed to fight, that I was here with her. But she was too little to fight forever. Nic had already told me we might have to make the most difficult decision of our lives. Sitting in the room while the doctor explained to us she wasn’t making progress and that she was going to get progressively worse, my husband and I decided to send our little girl to be with God. I have never felt pain like this. Loss. Emptiness. Heartache. There just isn’t a word to describe the moments that followed that stretched into days that will stretch into weeks, months, years, my lifetime. 

With each moment it gets a little easier. I could not be here without my husband. He is the only thing that gets me out of bed. I see my little fighter in him and it makes me so happy. She is our guardian angel. She keeps us looking to one another for the answers to all the decisions we have to make in the time ahead. Evelyn would be proud of her mom and dad. We love her so much. We miss feeling her fighter feet kick in the middle of the night. We miss the dreams and hopes we had for her future here on Earth. But like Nic continues to remind me, she is happier where she is. God is taking care of her and we will meet her again when it is our time to be welcomed back into God’s kingdom. 


I am so proud of you, I miss you, keep God smiling and we will be with you again someday. 

Your mommy,