Zion Thomas Lorntson

The time has come (in a mere 12 sessions of writing) to share the story of Zion Thomas Lorntson. I apologize for the misspellings, random thoughts, lack of order and negativity of what you're about to read. My brain is functioning at about...well...2%. But this is our heart, this is our story, Zion's story....


I'll begin on Tuesday, August 17th...it was Seth's birthday (mine was the next day) so we were all out at Seth's parents for supper and cake. ***The weekend before I had a sudden realization that "WE WERE GOING TO HAVE A BABY!!! FOR REAL!!! IT WAS REALLY GOING TO HAPPEN!!! IN JUST 2 SHORT MONTHS!!!" I went into severe nesting mode, eager to get things ready for Zion's arrival. I went to work ordering a new bouncy seat, car seat cover and a few more clothes. Seth had decided the quilt I had purchased was "too girly" so I ordered new bedding. My maternity wardrobe was running thin so I ordered a few more items for fall.*** Now, back to Tuesday, August 17th...we had been storing the crib in Seth's parents shed, so while we were there we loaded it up and brought it home for Zion. August 18th...It was my birthday and to celebrate (both Seth and my birthday's) we had a few close friends over for pizza. My good friend Tina (who is also a mother/baby nurse) had been eager to feel Zion kick for quite sometime so I downed a soda and the girls gathered 'round to touch my tummy and feel Zion move, that was the entertainment for the night. After everyone had left, Seth put the crib together as I finally allowed myself to pull the tags off clothes and blankets and ponder the perfect layout for Zion's new room etc. Things were becoming very real and I was in power mode to get ready!

We were headed to my parents in Sumner that weekend to celebrate birthday's and I was eager for all my new packages to arrive before we left, especially the bedding so I could show my mom and we could pick out paint colors.

On Thursday, August 19th I had a regular OB appointment, which was to include a routine glucose tolerance test. I chugged the little bottle of orange "juice" 1 hr. before the appt. as directed, took Grace to day care and headed to Des Moines. I even went to this appointment by myself because I was so confident it'd go smoothly, which it did, except, I threw up the orange "juice" while driving and therefore, couldn't complete the test. The PA wasn't worried and told me we'd just do the test another time. Everything else checked out just fine: baby's heartbeat was good, urine tested negative and blood pressure was fine....just as I expected. I headed back to Ames to run some errands while Grace was at day care and was anxious to get home to see if any of the packages had arrived. The bouncy seat came and I was giddy, much like a 5 year old at Christmas and quickly assembled the seat and tested it out then put it in Zion's room before Grace could get to it. I spent some more time in his room going through things, organizing shelves/baskets and even putting a few things in my new diaper bag before I went to get Grace.

I spent most of Friday morning packing to head to my parents and hoping the UPS man would show up with Zion's new bedding so I could take it to Sumner. The UPS man finally came and, again, I eagerly ripped open the package and fell in love with the new bedding. Once Seth got home from work we headed to Sumner. We spent Friday night laughing at Grace, staying up late poking fun at each other--talking and laughing. It was getting late and Zion wanted to be part of the fun so we all gathered around to watch my belly move. My brother mentioned how Zion must be a soccer player and we talked about his big feet, when he'd be born and when everyone would come visit. Little did we know, that was the last time we would see his precious movements.

I remember waking up around 6am Saturday, annoyed that I had to go all the way downstairs to go to the bathroom. When I got back in bed I couldn't sleep...my back was hurting a little and my stomach seemed to be in knots. I chalked it up to the junk I had eaten the night before and tried to get some more sleep, but Grace was up by 8 ready to get the day moving. My mom was going to detail our car for us for our birthday's, so as she did that Grace and I played outside and helped Oma clean. My back seemed to be getting worse but I assumed that was because of the bending, picking up Grace etc. By about noon my stomach was hurting so bad I was hunched over in tears from the pain and I had worked myself up into a frenzy worrying about the baby. My mom was quick to come to my aid and we decided it must be constipation and I tried to relax. By 3pm the pain hadn't gotten any better and we decided to call my Dr. just to make sure, if nothing else I needed something to stop the pain. He asked a few questions and recommended we head to the ER just to be checked. Seth, my mom and I loaded into the car (leaving Grace in the hands of Opa and Uncle Kyle who are both deathly afraid of diaper changing :) By the time we got the ER I was in so much pain that I was sweating like crazy and could only stand by leaning on the counter. I filled out papers and was wheeled up the OB floor where they immediately did an ultrasound. I knew something wasn't right and I couldn't watch the u/s monitor or look at the Dr...when she spoke I was afraid to hear, but even through her accent it was plain as day, "I can't find any cardiac activity." There was no heartbeat...I immediately went into shock. I think that's God's way of protecting us from the immense pain, pain that could kill you it hurts so bad. So instead your body shuts off. I could feel nothing, say nothing, do nothing, while my mom and Seth burst into tears, I just laid there...paralyzed with pain, fear and anger. The dr. proceeded to tell us (whoever was listening) what would happen next: induce labor, funeral, pictures, magnesium, blood pressure, autopsy...all words I heard and had heard before. It all seemed so familiar yet so wrong. SO WRONG! My body and mind were literally numb and as I laid there unable to think or speak things seemed to carry on anyway. I remember very little from that point until delivery. I know we had to make phone calls. Seth called his parents, I called Amanda and a few close friends. With each friendly "Hello" We responded, "I have bad news." and immediate sobbing would come from the other end. Part of the immense pain and one of the harder things to do in such situations is calling people to tell them. Being responsible for telling people that not only, OUR baby isn't alive but they had lost another grandson or nephew. Of course, news spread quickly and before long the phone calls were over...for now. After that, I remember the nurse and Dr. coming in and out, my mom, Seth and Seth's mom who never left my side. I remembering being able to barely open my eyes and see everyone starring at me, I'd make some sarcastic remark and pass out again. I had been given pain medication when we first arrived and later had an epidural so the physical pain was much more bearable. Contractions would come and go and I remember asking how I would know when to push. The Dr. said just tell me when you feel like you have to go to the bathroom. To which I responded, "I ALWAYS have to go to the bathroom." Somehow, I don't think that's what she meant. I cried wolf (or push, in this case :) a few times before Zion was ready to make his entrance but finally after a few pushes at 6:21am, Sunday, August 22nd, our precious son came into this world. As soon as he came out I remember asking, "Why isn't he crying?" No one answered as they took him to the table to wipe him down, so I persisted, "Why isn't he crying? Make him cry!" Again...no answer, but soon my son was in my arms and upon first glance I noticed he had Grace's lips...and my nose and ears. I unwrapped his tiny body and saw he was all Lorntson from the neck down with the lankiest legs, feet and hands I had ever seen. He was PERFECT! I thought that if I just held him, close enough, he would breathe, his heart would beat again. I was his mother, certainly I could fix this! He just needed me! But as we passed Zion's 2.2lb body around to his loving grandparents and daddy, it was painfully clear he wasn't going to breathe here on earth. As each person looked at Zion their eyes told the story. Sheer joy upon seeing their precious grandson/son and sheer pain in realizing he couldn't stay. Soon, the nurse took Zion to clean him up some more, dress him, get footprints, hand prints, take pictures, etc. The hospital has a wonderful program in which professional photographers come in when a baby is lost and take pictures for and with the family. Being it was early on a Sunday, they were having a hard time getting a hold of someone to do the pictures. We assured them that was OK and we all took lots of pictures and continued to take turns holding Zion close as we waited for Opa, Uncle Kyle and big sister, Grace to arrive. The anger grew inside me as I watched Seth hold his son...his second lifeless son, his tears falling onto Zion's blanket. He wanted a son so bad and he got two...but he wanted to keep one here. He wanted one to follow him around wearing a tool belt. We all know Seth loves his daughter very much, but a son...he wants a son. And I do believe he'll get his son, full of life, someday. As we waited for Grace we talked about how to handle things with her. Should she see him, should we try to explain...I was holding Zion when she walked in the room and it was clear that she should know. She climbed onto the bed with me and said, "Baby!" and she touched her brothers hands and stroked his head. I tried to explain to her that Zion had gotten sick and had to go to heaven with Elijah. She didn't understand that part, but i was sure glad she got to see her brother. Shortly after that everyone said their good byes and I watched them wheel my precious son out of the room...forever. As the nurse pushed the cradle toward the door Grace yelled, "Baby! Baby going?" I don't think anyone had the strength to answer her and being 2 years old she quickly moved on.

I know the first day of winter is typically the longest day of the year, but THIS was the longest day EVER! In history! My family left late that am to try to get some sleep, leaving Grace, Seth, Seth's parents and I until more visitors started showing up that afternoon. Later that morning I was allowed to get up and take a bath which sounded like a great idea, but it turns out being alone, even for a few minutes, wasn't what I needed or wanted. It was at least good to be clean, if nothing else. Up until this point I hadn't really even cried, again I believe I went into a state of shock as God's way of protecting me from the lethal pain of the initial news. Some friends of ours had stopped to visit and Seth and Grace went with them across the street to get some lunch, leaving Seth's parents and I. Of course it was then that everything hit me and I started sobbing uncontrollably...for the next week, with few tear free moments every once in a while. Visitors came and went and the familiar faces and loving hugs helped ease the pain, if only for a moment. Amanda, Jeremy and Brooklyn (Seth's sister/brother-in-law/niece) came that afternoon and when they left Grace headed back to Gilbert with them. We were glad she'd get to play with her cousin Jack and be in a more familiar environment but we missed her already. She was our little glimpse of hope in this hopeless situation. Some good "cult" friends of our had come and stayed fairly late that night, which was great because I feared night would be the worst. Eventually they left and I was right...Seth and I alone, in a sad hospital room was horrible. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, groaning in emotional pain and asking Seth, "Why?" Of course he was in no state to answer my question as he, himself was fighting sobs. Eventually I was given a sleeping pill and managed to sleep through the night. We all know Seth slept just fine, with no pill :) The next morning my mom was there early and stayed with us all day, another long day. Later that morning we decided we missed Grace and needed her with us, so we called Seth's mom and our friend, Tina to see if they would want to bring her up for the day. Of course, they did, which was a great help to us. Another day of sitting in the hospital room filled with painful memories, drug on. Later that afternoon the nurse came back in to tell us they had gotten a hold of a photographer and she was going to come take pictures. We were excited to get to see Zion again, unexpectedly! He looked great and it felt so good to have him in my arms again...for a moment it felt like it was supposed to, our son was back...he was just sleeping, right? Well of course, he wasn't just sleeping and we had to let him go again...this time we knew it was for real as the funeral home was on their way to get him. Do you have any idea the horrible feeling of sitting in the hospital room where you just delivered your son, knowing a hearse is on its way to pick him up? The horrific pain overwhelms me just thinking about it again. That's not how it's supposed to be. I kept saying over and over, telling anyone who listened, "We aren't even 30 and we've buried two children! That's so wrong!" And it is. I had had a blood transfusion earlier that morning because of bleeding behind the placenta before delivery. Because of that, I knew they wanted me to stay at the hospital until Tuesday, but I pleaded to go home early anyway. I wanted out of that room...but knowing what awaited me at home wasn't much of a comfort either. The dr. wanted me to stay another night but assured me I'd get to go home in the am. That night Seth and I started to plan Zion's funeral. Having been through this before (which is painful to say, too) I knew what I wanted. Music and balloons! While we were planning, the nurse came in to check my blood pressure and of course, it was fairly high (considering the situation) so then I got worked up about that and they decided to start a blood pressure med, which I knew I didn't need. I needed my son! I needed to get out of there! But for the millionth time they assured me they had no emotional drugs to offer me and started the blood pressure meds. For the next few hrs. they took my blood pressure every 5 minutes, which was super annoying as I stared at the machine every time in a panic that it would be high. It wasn't, it went back down and after another break down and sleeping pill, I was able to sleep through another night. Before I knew it, another Dr. woke me up to tell me I could go home and shortly after that my mom showed up to help us pack and head out. I definitely had mixed emotions about heading home....I pictured Zion's room just how I had left it and I pictured boxes of maternity clothes that I had ordered waiting on my doorstep. I knew getting home meant planning another funeral, meeting with Pastors, picking out flowers, making bulletins, etc. I knew getting home would bring a peace but also create new heartbreak. The nurse that had been with us most of our time at Allen walked us out to the car. She cried as she hugged us goodbye and assured us she was praying for our future and her heart broke for us. My mom, Seth, the nurse and I all stood there feeling a lot but saying little until we finally loaded up the car and drove away. I stared out the window until I finally fell asleep and woke up in our driveway. The first thing I noticed when we pulled up was the baby statue amidst our landscape that we had been given when Elijah passed away. I always plant gerber daisies on either side of the statue, but this year, after I initially planted the daisies they died off and refused to grow the rest of the summer. Until that day...when one bright orange daisy appeared next to the cement baby. I know it was God's way of reminding me there is hope, that He was there and a smile crossed my face for a brief second, but the pain was more powerful than the smile on my face and I prepared myself to walk in the house full of memory of what should have been, Zion.

Seemed like we barely got in the door before Grace was back and the house was a buzz of activity. We met with Pastor Tom and Pastor Larry and Dave and Jan McDermott to talk through the service for Zion, before long Seth and Grace were cuddled on our bed for a nap while I entertained the steady stream of visitors, all with tears in their eyes as they offered a hug and admitted they had no words. With each hug, Facebook comment, email, meal, phone call, text, etc. our burden seemed to be lightened and we knew, if nothing else we were loved beyond measure. We had a constant flow of meals coming in our door and so Seth's family came over for supper and to offer moral support. Shortly after we put Grace to bed a wave of pain hit and I broke down...again. Carol offered to take Tom home and come back and after Amanda put her kids to bed she came back too. She stayed with me until neither of us could hold our eyes open any longer. After she was sure I would get some sleep Amanda left and I headed to bed for another break down. I knew nights would be tough and I was ready for that, to this day I lay in bed each night with tears in my eyes, waiting for Zion's timely kicks that never come, asking why and talking through things with Seth. I wasn't so ready for the waves of pain that came in the mornings. Each morning brought a new wave of reality, this hadn't been a dream, I awake to the same empty nursery and the same stabbing pain in my heart. But before long I hear Grace's precious voice beckoning me to "Open! Open!" and get her day going. Her precious smile and priceless hugs dull the pain and give us hope and happiness.

We spent the next few days preparing for the funeral.

*The funeral home called and asked if we'd like the same casket we used for Elijah and if he'd be buried next to his brother. Yeah, we've (our parents, actually) purchased 2, TWO caskets under 20". They shouldn't even be made and we certainly shouldn't be shopping for them! 2, TWO plots at the cemetery...sure. And the thought of 2, TWO headstones with the names of our precious sons side by side is cruel and feels like a stab in the heart. Did we want an open casket? That was an easy "no" but still painful to hear someone ask...knowing they are talking about my child.

*After we found our Elijah was a boy we had purchased a soft blue blanket with blue dots on it and I would cuddle with it. When we lost him, we buried that blanket with him. So we wanted to pick out an animal or blankie for Zion to be buried with too. I kept putting it off because I knew neither Seth or I wanted to go into Zion's room. But eventually we did and the pain met me at the door. I cried and cried upon seeing the crib we had just put up, the basket full of his new clothes I had been nagging Seth to haul to the washer. I made my way to my new diaper bag where I had packed a few things for the hospital. Inside was a little monkey/blanket/lovey and I knew that's what we should bury him with. We held the monkey and wiped our tears with it as we repeated, "We miss you Zion. We love you." and finally walked out of the room, locking the door behind us. My mom later took Grace to town to run some errands. They stopped by the funeral home to drop the monkey off and as Ann (the funeral director) walked off with Zion's monkey Grace yelled to her, "No! Baby! Zion!" She knew that was her brother's and she didn't want anyone else to take it. Obviously, she didn't know that's exactly where it was going.

*I worked on typing the funeral bulletins, using Elijah's as a blueprint and knowing what I wanted to change. Cause in case I didn't mention it, this is the SECOND time we've done this. My mom and I went to Stables (name changed to protect the innocent:) to print the bulletins. We picked out brightly colored paper then sat on a bench waiting for them to be printed and cut. We talked about the past few days, walking through what we remembered and realized we didn't even know what the date was. Well, turns out we had (and still have) no awareness of time and had printed the wrong date on the bulletins. Oh well....minor detail. When the bulletins were done the man called us to the register. He said, "Is this your son?" I replied, "Yes." And he said, "I can't charge you for these. Just take them and go. Yeah, I don't want to talk about it. I'm so sorry." We asked if he was sure and he assured us, as tears filled his eyes that it was OK. We took the bulletins and left and could not stop talking about how generous that was and how thankful we were for God's tiny glimpes of our sons, through moments and people like that.

*We picked out flowers. Again, referring to Elijah's arrangement to go off of. I remembered Elijah's beautiful flowers that I fell in love with. There was a rattle, a rubber ducky and his name in blocks. Perfect, I'd *like* another one.

I wanted to do a balloon release and our dear friends, the Gelner's, generlously took charge of blowing up all the balloons for us. I wanted music so our dear friends, the Fitzgerald's, went to work ready to lead worship and type up the power point for us. Everyone was so eager and willing to help in any way they could, which was great and made things so much easier.

The night before the funeral was very glum...we were all dreading the day, but knew it would be a peaceful day too. We managed a few hours of sleep before the alarm went off. I knew I had to get up and get dressed...with makeup and everything but it was hard to find the motivation. Eventually we made it out to Riverside where I went into "party planner mode" worrying about every detail. Why wasn't the funeral home there yet? Does the sound man know what songs to play where? Can he do the power point too? Who will hand out the bulletins? Where are the flowers? Meanwhile, people started filing in, each one offering heartfelt hugs as our tears fell on each others shoulders. The details magically fell into place as we greeted people and before I knew it I saw the funeral director carrying a tiny casket past me to the front of the chapel. My son...my precious Zion. I wanted badly to hold the box myself...I am his mom...I can take care of it. Instead, I watched them carry him to the altar where we would pay tribute to his precious life. We filed in, never ready, but knowing it was time to start. The service was perfect and beautiful. There was lots of music. I LOVE music and I relate through music and wanted to share that with others. We sang worship songs:

Be Near

Wonderful, Merciful Savior

How Can I Keep From Singing

There was scripture, my mom read a poem, a beautiful message and more music:

Held

Praise You in This Storm

Before the Morning

Sobs and sniffling filled the background as I starred at my son's casket, singing along with the songs that were playing. Then, it was over and we headed up the hill to release balloons. A dear friend, Dave McDermott, offered up a most appropiriate prayer and upon "Amen" we let the balloons fly up to heaven to greet our sons. As a big white cross stood before us, surrounded by loved ones, the variety of brightly colored balloons made a most perfect image in the cloudless sky. It was just as I imagined.

The moment we all knew would be the hardest was fast approaching as we headed to our cars for the procession to the cemetary. My family all rode together. On the way Grace said, "Where Zion going?" I said, "He's in that car up there. We are going to take him to the cemetary and he's going to go to heaven with Jesus and Elijah." Of course she asked, "Why?" and made a comment about the balloons. I told her that Zion and Elijah were having a party in heaven and we sent balloons to them for their party. She wondered why Zion had to go to heaven. I told her he had gotten sick and so Jesus took him to heaven. She, again asked, "Why?" to which I replied, "Grace, I have no idea." She was satisfied with that answer, but I wondered if she'd ever question why SHE wasn't in heaven. It hasn't come up yet, and I pray it never does.

Finally, we pulled into the cemetary...I quickly forced myself to get out of the car and walked over to the freshly dug hole. The combination of Elijahs' grave, the newly dug hole and the mound of dirt next to it was all very overwhelming and I knew I wouldn't last long. Pastor Tom said a few words and prayed. Then time froze. I starred at the casket of my precious Zion and I lost it. I mean LOST IT!!!!!!!! I put my head on Seth's chest and repeated over and over again, "I can't leave. I can't leave." Before I knew it I was yelling, louder and louder, "I can't leave! I can't leave!" and groaning in pain as I collapsed to the ground. I had no control. I was aware that there were people around me and that they were all starring at me and that my cries were breaking their hearts. But I couldn't stop. I could not bear to leave my son! My sons! That wasn't there home! They didn't belong there! They need their mommy! Before long my close friends had gathered around me, kneeling beside me, holding me and praying. I continued to tell them I couldn't leave, my babies needed me. They reminded me that they had Jesus, they were OK, they would be OK without me. But I wasn't OK, I am not OK without them. I need THEM! At some point reality hit and I knew I had to leave. There were 50 some people standing there....waiting...for me to make a move. So I stood up, turned around and saw nothing but tears flowing from the eyes of all our loved ones. I started hugging people and as each friend wiped a tear away I could slowly function again. I turned to see Grace standing proudly be Elijah's headstone saying, "MY brother! MY brother!" Like she was his body guard. We decided we should encourage her to say goodbye to Zion and then we could go. We walked her over to Zion's casket and explained to her that her baby brother, Zion was going to stay here. She kept saying, "No! Brother me! Brother come me!" and my heart shattered even more as I explained he had to stay there. I asked her to say goodbye and my precious 2 year old daughter, our constant reminder of God's faithfullness, bent over her baby brother's casket, kissed it, put her hands on it and said in her precious little voice, "Bye-bye Zion." more than once. She told us she wanted to bring the flowers with her and we told her we could do that. Seth bent down to pick up the flowers and Grace touched the casket again and said, "Come me! Brother come me!" Again, PAIN as I had to force her to walk away from her brother's graves. After lots and lots of hugs we piled back into the cars and headed to Gilbert Lutheran Church for lunch.

There's nothing like the traditional spread of ham & turkey sandwiches and a variety of salads (most of which contain jello of some sort) to lighten the mood. I was exhausted, emotionally, physically and every other sense of the word and the thought of making sure to hug and thank everyone for coming wore me out even more. By the time lunch started wrapping up I was lieterally half asleep, my head hurt and I could hardly function. We finally cleared the place out and headed home. My aunt, uncle, dad, mom and brother were all there and we visited for a while until everyone (excpet my mom who stayed another night) left. Finally, it was nap time for everyone. We all woke from naps feeling revived but numb and realizing now we had to carry on. We had to figure out what "back to normal" meant. Nearly a month later, we still don't know.

We stayed up late that night partly because I didn't want the night to end because I knew my mom was leaving in the am, but mostly because Grace had been having a hard time sleeping at night. Each time we laid her down she screamed and flew into complete hysteria! Screaming with all her might that she wanted to sleep in mommy's bed, feeling bad we'd let her sleep in our bed, but that didn't help. Nothing would calm her down and her cries put me over the edge into hysteria too. My one earlthy child and I couldn't even console her. This was a struggle for nearly a week. To this day Grace wakes up yelling in the middle of the night and we believe (confirmed by counselors) that she is dealing with what happened, too. We don't have any idea what is going through her mind, but anyone who knows Grace knows that she is smart! She doesn't miss anything and I know she is aware that something went wrong and things aren't the same even know. Every day she makes a comment about Zion, mostly about how she misses him, but sometimes she'll still touch my tummy and say "Baby! Baby in there." And I explain, "Remeber Zion got sick and went to heaven with Jesus and Elijah." Of course she asks why and to that I have no response. A few of the more painful comments: One day completely out of nowhere Grace came over to me with her lip out and said, "Mommy, I sad." I said, "Why are you sad honey?" And she answered, "I miss Zion." Ouch! Two weeks after Zion's funeral we were again gathered in front of a casket, holding my grandma. As we headed out to the cemetary Grace started skpping and telling everyone, "Hey! My brother lives here."

Each day brings new trials and a variety of pain. It's fair to say that for Seth and I, the anger has mostly faded and turned into sadness. We miss our sons like crazy and sooo badly want to hold them. We know we'll see them again, but we want t see them NOW! We know God has a plan but we feel pain NOW. We know God will use this to His glory...that others have been and will be closer to God through Zion's life. But it's hard to care about others NOW. We know that our sons have a perfect life in a perfect place, but we want them here NOW, selfishly. We know we have to have hope, because we know our faith is real, it's who we are. If we could turn our backs on it all we would have, but we can't. Jesus Christ is real! He is our Savior and our best friend. We don't believe, we KNOW! Right now we sometimes pretend not to know. We pretend we don't know or care about God's plan, we pretend we know best, we pretend we are hopeless but none of it's true. We can't kid ourselves. We do have hope and we do trust that God will use this for good...we do. WE DO! But at this point, pain tends to override that knowledge. Our selfishness takes over...but not for long. We serve a God full of hope and a God that can provide a peace which transends all human understanding (Phil 4:6).

We can not possibly express enough thanks to everyone who has stopped to give us a hug, bring us a meal, sent a card or flowers, atteneded the funeral, left a Facebook message, or the mirad of other wonderful things people have done for us. We are truly being carried through this dark valley on the sholders of many friends and family. We are humbled and honored that our precious son, our second precious son has touched lives and changed hearts. We are so proud of our little angels, Elijah and Zion and the joy that have brought to this world! May their memory live on forever.