Wednesday, July 13, 2016

SIT IN GRIEF

Tomorrow evening, we're heading back home. It is with mixed feelings I leave this sacred place and beautiful beach and ocean. I know it was the right decision to leave everything and come to the beach for almost three weeks. Life has been greatly simplified. Eat, sleep, beach, repeat. Wherever we went, we brought memories and longing for our boy, but it was in a place where no one but the three of us knew about it. We didn't carry the grief of others caring for Jacob. The focus was on the three of us, no one else. I'm thinking it was all we could handle.

I can't remember when the three of us have spent this much time together. It was a good start to a new beginning. Grief can at the same time be a lonely place even when you're surrounded by loved ones. The three of us don't grieve at the same time, and not in the same way. I think we did ok in also giving each other space when we needed it. I know I needed my alone time, and Joakim and Sarah would venture out to the grocery store or starting the grill down at the beach. Sarah and I would venture to the farmer's market or spend more time in the waves while Joakim would sit on the beach. Sarah would leave a little earlier from the beach while Joakim and I would take a walk together.

We have united several evenings on the beach, collecting and writing Jacob's name with sea shells. We love the stillness of the beach at night, the cool sand on our feet, the sound of the ever lasting waves, the breeze, the dramatic sky, and the sun sets. The beach looks slightly different each time reminding us that so do our lives right now. Nothing is constant.



As I read about loss of a child, I'm told to "sit in my grief". I should welcome the grief and fully experience it. In the middle of the ugly grief, healing will come. Being a person who loves to stay busy, it's sometimes hard for me to fully slow down and "sit in my grief". As Sarah was starting to get a little bored of our slow beach days, Joakim decided to take Sarah to Universal Studios today.

Today, it was all about me. I started the day with a run. Exercising was always my "go to" when I was stressed about Jacob, and so is it now. Passing a playground with a special needs swing was all it took for me to land right in sadness. I kept running despite my legs not being as willing to move forward. It was probably the slowest run in a very long time as I was passing that little empty swing twice.


I had a slow breakfast and enjoyed my cup of coffee as I was reading a few more old blog posts. I then went to the beach. I swam in the waves, went for a walk on the beach, and read my book. I didn't think much. I just let my mind wander. This afternoon, I put on my favorite Swedish opera singer Malena Ernman. Sarah and Joakim are not crazy about her, so today I could fully blast her new CD Sverige (Sweden). And right then, I sat in my grief. I had no one waiting for me or nowhere to be. I let the tears come for my sweet Jacob I so very much miss. The loss of Jacob is so much more than our sweet boy. It's the loss of him being my inspiration and motivation each day for ten years. The loss of being Jacob's mom, something I got so very good at. It was a purpose in life bigger than anything I have ever experienced.

As we venture home tomorrow, I'm nervous. Coming back home is going to make the loss of Jacob, if at all possible, even more evident. Our house is quiet compared to being filled with Jacob's nurses and therapists. Jacob's typically busy room is quiet. Every room in our house has reminders of our boys. The care and kisses every hour of the day is gone. I don't need to get up at a certain hour to prepare medications, start Jacob's vest treatment and suction him. I don't need to eat dinner a certain hour to get Jacob to bed in time for his seizure medications. I wish there was some relief in that,but it is just pure loss. What I would do to get that life back again. It's also time for Joakim to get back to work again.

To soften our homecoming, we have good friends visiting from Switzerland moving in with us right away. They shared Jacob with us for years, so that gives me comfort. Sarah is also ready to see her friends again. As I told her early on that I think exercise will help me heal, she told me right away that her friends will help her to find happiness again. She can't wait to see them. She had a rough couple of days lately when she had to make some decisions for next year. She simply couldn't. She was so sad, and she thinks life is pretty unfair. I felt heart broken seeing her so sad. She needs Joakim and I close to her, and she craves a lot of attention from both of us. She doesn't like to go to bed. Other times, she is hoping by not thinking about Jacob and not talking about him, the pain will go away. It's simply too much to take in all at once to get through the day.

Despite being far from home, I have cherished all of you checking in with me. I have cherished each kind message, and it gets me through to the next act of kindness. This blog has also been very good to me, a place to put words on so many overwhelming feelings.

Sincere thanks to our community of family & friends. Thanks for sticking with us.

Much love, Maria.



Sunday, July 10, 2016

THE MAGIC OF DISNEY

"I was thinking why this place is magic, and it's in the details. Everything at Magic Kingdom is so well thought through to the smallest little detail. Sarah told us that Jacob is spoiled rotten here, and that's what happens when you otherwise have to spend a lot of time in the hospital. Our girl sure understands more than I sometimes think."


This is an extract from one of my blog posts during Jacob's Make-A-Wish trip in 2009. I have enjoyed reading my old blog posts, and gosh did our boy have a rough 2009. In the middle of a very rough year where we just didn't know if our boy was going to make it, Jacob made it to Disney World twice (!) within six months. I am so happy we just decided to go for it when we were granted our Make-A-Wish trip exactly six months after our own trip to Disney. These are the things I simply not regret, and instead feel thankful for.



This last week, we decided to take Sarah to Disney World. She got to pick the park, and decided without hesitation "Magic Kingdom". We left Vero Beach early, and made it to Magic Kingdom shortly after they opened their doors. It was a really hot humid day, and we were definitely sweaty and hot throughout the day. With a teenager on board, we took full advantage of all the rides and parades in the park and enjoyed 15 hours of fun and magic. Add another four hours of driving time, and it turned into a very long, but really good day.




Sarah figured out the fast pass system, and we didn't stand in lines all day long. None of us are crazy about scary rides, and in that way, Magic Kingdom is perfect. The rides are so well done, but they are not necessarily turning your stomach inside out.

Disney has a way to make us all feel like children again. We simply had a lot of fun together, and we laughed a lot. The laughter you feel starting in your stomach, and making your face turn into a big smile. Joakim and I were sincerely happy to see Sarah just enjoy the moment, and for a day forgetting she's an only child, missing her brother, and feeling life is pretty darn unfair right now.

Being in fresh grief, I crave kindness. I don't do well with rude people or unkind words. The smallest gesture of unkindness really put me at unease. I have no protection for meanness and rudeness. In Disney, everyone is extremely friendly and will go out of their way to be kind. I ran into the Haunted Mansion gift shop to escape the heat. One of the sales people saw me, and showed me a secret spot in the store where there was an extra fan. He also showed me where the nearest restrooms were and where I could charge my phone. This is the kind of world I want to live in right now, a kind, friendly world where I don't need to make any hard, major decisions.

What I didn't expect coming out of this day is us going down memory lane with Jacob. Memory lane in a really good way. Our last true vacation with Jacob was his Make-A-Wish trip to Disney World. As we were moving through the park, we remembered the different rides we did with our boy and that he never wanted to get off the ride "It's a Small World". We remembered all the princesses we met with, Sarah with her autograph book in her hand, and Jacob deciding to not let go of Cinderella's hair. Joakim and I said multiple times we were so happy we took Jacob on this trip when he was still doing pretty well. Little did we know that Jacob would have his first true mitochondrial crash less than a month after his Make-A-Wish trip. Everything happens for a reason.



At night, we watched the Disney Parade followed by spectacular fireworks. As we were standing in the darkness surrounded by thousands of people, I just got this feeling that maybe, maybe we will be ok one day again, and in the middle of grief, we do need to find moments of happiness.



To the magic of Disney. Much love, Maria.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

SHELTERED BY THE BEACH

After an intense week at home preparing for Jacob's memorial service, we decided to leave town. We're on our second week in Vero Beach, Florida. Dear friends of ours gave us the gift of letting us stay in their beach house. We're five minutes from the beach. It's always a slight breeze around the house due to the closeness of the ocean. The sky is blue, and the air is warm and humid.




I'm hoping it was the right decision to leave. I feel as if we're sheltered from the enormous grief of loosing Jacob by the beauty of this place. The waves, the sand, the shells have taken us under their wings, and soften life just a little. Our beach life has also simplified our lives a lot. We eat, sleep, and relax. That's basically the three things happening each day. I sleep a lot. I have not slept well in ten years. The first week after Jacob passed, I couldn't sleep at all. I felt as if I was running around jet-lagged, and I desperately needed a nap in the afternoon to make it to bed time. Now I crave my sleep.



Joakim and I read a lot. I have started reading my own blog from the beginning. The printed copy is well over 1,000 pages. I'm on year three of Jacob's life, one of Jacob's toughest years of his life. We swim in the ocean and jump in the waves. We all take walks in the evening. We watch TV with Sarah and play Dominoes. We talk about all day things, and we talk about the past and the future. We spend a lot of time together, but also make room for each of us to have some space.


We're protected by the fact that no one knows us here. I don't need to have a conversation about Jacob passing as I am in the grocery store (and if you do meet me at the store, do know I love to talk about Jacob) or at the gym. On the outside, I am just another mom getting groceries for dinner. There are also few reminders of Jacob in Vero Beach. The first time I saw the gift shop where I bought him a t-shirt last time, it punched me deep in my chest. When I saw a boy wearing the same swim shirt Jacob got for his 10th birthday, I was taken back by the waves. A Minion pen case at Target reminded me that there will be no school supply shopping for Jacob this year. That got me so incredibly sad out of nowhere.

4th of July was harder than I thought it would be. I felt low the whole day, remembering all 4th of July holidays with our boy in it. I was happy we were on vacation, so I didn't have to be reminded of our neighborhood bike parade, swimming in our pool, and BBQs on our deck. I also surprised myself by realizing I haven't watched 4th of July fireworks in years. After BBQ with friends at our house, I always stayed back with Jacob. I typically sneaked out after he fell asleep with his monitor to hear the fireworks from our front patio. It was a good place to end the day after a good evening with friends and knowing our boy was sleeping. It was bittersweet to actually get to watch fireworks with Joakim and Sarah for the first time in a very long time.



I see signs of Jacob everywhere. I see him in the clouds, I see him in a beautiful flower, and I see him at sunset. The idea that Jacob won't communicate with me any longer is unbearable. I need his signs to move forward.






There is also this feeling of guilt. That we are now on this beautiful beach, something we just couldn't do with Jacob. I know it doesn't make sense, but it comes over me. I would of course trade it any minute for another day with Jacob, but I also think somewhere he knows we need this escape right now. It's a place of healing.

It's a time for Joakim, Sarah and I to figure out how to be a family again. We always joked about Jacob being the boss of our family. The flow of our days and our lives definitely circled a lot around Jacob's care and health. I changed my job to be able to care for Jacob, Joakim and I always tag teamed since one always had to stay home with Jacob. Our alarm clock was set based on Jacob's care, our dinner time was set so we had time to get Jacob ready for bed. Our weekend rhythm was determined on when Jacob needed to be home for naps or vest treatments. If we were home or at Children's all depended on how Jacob was doing. It was our normal, our family, and we got really good at having a great life together.





A few times, I did let my mind wander to life without Jacob when he was still with us. I always thought I would be completely paralyzed, and to simply get out of bed would be a huge struggle. This stage of grief is nothing what I would have expected it to be. I found this quote and thought it describes pretty well where we are right now:

"Grief is like waves washing in from the ocean. Sometimes they are small and tolerable, yet sometimes when you least expect it a big wave pull your feet right out from under you."



Tomorrow, we are leaving early for Orlando. We're taking our girl to Disney World. She's so excited, and I hope we will allow ourselves to make that a good day for all of us, simply be in the moment, and find a moment of happiness.

Sincere thanks to everyone reaching out to us. We cherish every message and love from each one of you.

Much love, Maria.



Friday, July 1, 2016

JACOB'S LAST DAYS

"How I will I know when Jacob's time has come?" 
"You will know, you will know", said Dr. E.

We had this conversation in 2009 when Jacob was three years old, and we thought Jacob's life was coming to an end. I have thought about our conversation throughout the years, and questioned her answer. How would I know? How would I be able to see that Jacob was nearing the end when it was the worst thing that could happen to Jacob, to our child? I wasn't sure I would know. I thought someone would have to tell me it's time to let go.

Leading up to Jacob's last weekend of life, the PICU had done a full workup of him trying to understand why he was so sick. On Friday, I was surprised the medical team had stopped his antibiotics. He was still so sick! We talked to the intern and the resident, and we didn't get any good answers. I felt as if we had an elephant in the room, and no one wanted to really talk to us. I was seemingly frustrated. After a while, the attending came in and asked if she could sit down with us. With full empathy, she said she was concerned that Jacob's sky rocking lactate was related to changes in his brain. She said she didn't take it lightly to talk about progression of Jacob's disease, but she was worried Jacob had had recent changes to his brain and that is why he was sick. Together we agreed to give Jacob the weekend to see if he would improve, and if not, we would schedule a brain MRI for the following week. I am dreading brain MRIs. With Jacob, it never meant good news. At the same time, we wanted answers. Joakim and I actually felt a little better after talking to the attending. We felt we had a plan in place.

Saturday morning, Sarah went to a babysitting class with a friend in Broomfield. I went biking with my dear friend Brittany. As we were riding up Lookout Mountain, my fit watch displayed a text message from Joakim: "Phenobarbital 62". I kept pedaling, but I knew we could not blame Jacob's sleepiness on an elevated level of Phenobarbital this time. 62 is normal for Jacob. Brittany and I stopped at the top, I told her the bad news. I told her: "I think this is it for Jacob", and tears came down my face. We hugged, had a little bit of breakfast bar, and kept pedaling. In my mind, we would do the brain MRI on Monday, and I knew we couldn't expect great news.

We took a coffee break in Morrison. I called Joakim, and he told me that Jacob had desaturated a few times on his bi-pap. The attending was in the room, and it was decided to do a chest x-ray, if he continued to dip. We were considering if we should ask to be picked up in Morrison, but Joakim told us to keep pedaling and to go home and shower.

As we got back to the car, I got another text from Joakim: "it doesn't look good". I called him, and he told me to come straight to the hospital. I knew right there in the parking lot in Wheatridge that this was it. I had no idea how to get to the hospital from where I was. My hands were shaking so badly, it took me several attempts to plug in the hospital address in my phone. As I was driving, I was talking to Joakim and telling him over and over again: "please, make sure Jacob is alive when I get there", "please have someone drive Sarah to the hospital right now". I was driving like a maniac through Denver, and my brain was racing. I was negotiating with God to please make sure I would be next to Jacob as he passed.

I parked the car right outside the hospital, and sprinted in my crocs to the glass elevator. I realized you can't run in crocs. I took off my shoes, and I have never ever ran as fast as I did through the PICU that Saturday - sweaty and in cycle gear.

Jacob was alive. The attending told me to hold his hand as the medical team was putting in a breathing tube. Joakim had made the decision to intubate Jacob, so both Sarah and I would have a chance to make it in time. I will forever be grateful to him for this decision. After ten years of fighting with Jacob, he wasn't going to be alone at his last moment.

Jacob was stable. He was breathing with the help of the breathing tube. A CT scan of his brain was ordered. Sarah made it to the hospital as I was down with Jacob for the CT scan. Joakim prepared Sarah that this was it for her brother. He was only alive because of the breathing tube. When you have to tell your child horrific news, the only way you can do it is by telling the truth. There are no other ways around it. No way to ease the pain.

Joakim and I met with the medical team as Sarah was cuddling in bed with Jacob, tears streaming down her face. The attending explained the brain CT scan was significantly worse from last year, and explained that central apnea had caused him to struggle to breathe so badly. Joakim and I didn't need a CT scan, we knew this was it for Jacob. We knew without the breathing tube, there would be no Jacob. We were completely in agreement, and as Dr. E had told us seven years earlier, we knew. We cried. We hugged. Dr. E told us to take as much time as we needed for our goodbyes and to also have close friends say goodbye.

And this is where something beautiful happened right in the PICU, for seven hours straight we had Jacob's inner circle say goodbye to him. Everyone we texted came to the hospital to say their goodbyes, and in the middle of lots of tears, the story of Jacob's life was unfolding. We laughed at memories when Jacob had been especially bossy, and at all the things our little boy accomplished in his way too short life. Love filled the hospital room and surrounded our boy. Coffee cups, ice cream, chocolate, hamburgers filled our room to make sure we had everything we needed. My dear friend Karen brought me clothes, so I could get out of my stinky bike clothes. For Sarah, this part was exhausting. She didn't know how to handle everyone's feelings, and got a little out of hand with her jokes.

We were thinking to remove the breathing tube when all our friends had left, but it was close to 9:30 pm. None of us had had time to say our goodbyes. Sarah was in big need to spend her own time with her brother, and laid with him in bed for a very long time. I then laid next to Jacob all night on my right hip holding his little hands, trying to remember every line of his face, kissing him over and over again on his little nose, and cried and cried until there was no more tears, and then cried some more. I didn't sleep all night, but it didn't matter. I knew it was our last night together.

We were all tired in the morning, but made sure we all had time to lay next to Jacob as much as we needed. Sarah took the longest to get ready to let her brother go. I knew my two children always had a special bond. To see her completely heartbroken is probably one of the hardest things I have experienced as a mom.

We were all laying in bed with Jacob as he took his last breathe. It was on Jacob's terms. He decided he didn't want a big brain MRI, and difficult decisions for us to follow. He decided when his time had come. As much as I am in pain, I admire Jacob deeply for that.

When it's your child or brother, death is not scary. Sarah absolutely refused to let go of her brother. She just wanted to hang on to him. We gave Jacob a bath together. We made sure to let him know one more time how much we loved him. We stayed with Jacob for hours. We just couldn't let him go.

We then had to pack up Jacob's hospital room for a final time. That was hard, so hard. What was even harder was walking out of the hospital without Jacob. That was the most empty, sad, and definite feeling in the world. The car ride home was not much better. The empty wheel chair in the middle of the van was staring at us.

I know we made something for dinner for Father's Day, but I honestly don't remember what we ate. We had a gift for Joakim, but it was unwrapped. Phones were constantly going off with condolences. My eyes and head were aching from too many tears. When we finally made it to bed, it was pure exhaustion that got us to fall asleep.

I never wanted Jacob to pass at Children's, and definitely not in the PICU. In the end, that is what happened, and it was nothing as I had expected it to be. It was peaceful with a medical team who had known Jacob for a decade. Dr. E was by our side the whole weekend. The room was filled with love and happy memories from Jacob's inner circle of friends. Jacob took his final breathe with Joakim, Sarah and I right next to him. It was the most sad moment I have ever experienced in my life, to loose our boy Jacob.

What happened after Jacob passed is still a little surreal to all of us. We knew Jacob was loved by so many. We just hadn't fully realized how many people's lives he had touched, and how deeply. We didn't realize how many truly had followed our journey via Jacob's blog for so many years. We are in awe by the love surrounding our boy and our family. Jacob had hundreds and hundreds of people at his memorial service and Celebration of Life. In Jacob's short life, he touched more people than most people do in a life time. Our beautiful boy Jacob.


We are in deep gratitude for Jacob's community of friends and family. Your kindness, support and love for Jacob and us are keeping us walking, one step at a time.

Much love,
Maria.


















Tuesday, June 28, 2016

CELEBRATION OF JACOB'S LIFE

And just like that, I ended up on the other side. I ended up in the most not wanted group of moms, the mothers who have lost their children. In less than an hour after people knew Jacob had passed, I was suddenly a member of the Facebook group "Mito disorders child loss support group". It was well meant to add me, but it was a quick transition to the other side. In having friends on the other side, I always empathized and listened, but I never knew what it truly meant to loose a child. Being a little over a week in to this journey of grief and finding a new path in life, I am fully convinced that I have still only scratched the surface of what is ahead of me. As my dear friend Heather said: "don't underestimate the crappiness of this".

Planning a memorial service is a little like planning a wedding, the only difference is you have less time and there is no excitement in knocking on the door to a funeral home to plan your 10 years old child memorial service. When you just want to stay in your PJs under your cover, you need to make decisions around what music to play, who should speak at the service, what flower arrangements you would like, what casket your child should be cremated in, and what urn to pick. We were lucky to pick a funeral director who was organized and walked us through this process step by step, hour by hour. She did it with empathy and grace. In the middle of tears and exhaustion, it felt so important to honor Jacob's life in the best way possible. Joakim and I looked at thousands of pictures to pick out the small number of 40 pictures to represent Jacob's life. We spent hours creating photo boards and emailing back and forth with friends and family to make sure everyone's requests got honored. In the middle of the busyness, I knew there was a purpose to the crazy days. In order to function, the tears and the emptiness came in chunks rather than at all hours of the day. There was a purpose to get out of bed each day because there was a long list of things to accomplish in order to get a memorial service ready in five days.

We knew we also wanted to do a Celebration of Jacob's life. We had decided years ago we would like to do it at Jacob's preschool Bal Swan where he had five awesome years, probably the best five years of his life. One email to the Director, and it was a deal! That school was always more than a school, it's like its own community of families in Broomfield, all believing in full inclusion of special needs children.

As I was sitting down for a quick bite Monday morning, my dear friend Susan texted me. She didn't say: "please, let me know what you need" because reality is I had no idea what I needed. She simply said: "I would like to organize your reception for you. Somebody did that when my mom passed away, and it helped me a lot". As I entered Bal Swan to meet with the Director, Susan and Alyssa were sitting with their note pads and pens ready to get to work. Wow! There is no way, Joakim and I could have planned both the memorial service and Jacob's celebration in the short of amount of time we had. We're forever grateful to Susan, Alyssa and the whole Paul Derda recreation center crew for putting on the most amazing celebration for hundreds of people.

The day before Jacob's memorial service, we were all on edge. We all snapped at the smallest of things. We all dreaded the day of Jacob's memorial service, and at the same time, we wanted it to be perfect. A perfect way of honoring our boy.

Looking back, the memorial service and Jacob's celebration of life were so sad but so beautiful. The stories and memories throughout the whole day told a story about love, fight and quality of life. A short life that touched so many people. A boy who touched more people that most will do in a full life time. Our precious boy Jacob. An inspiration to so many.

We streamed the whole memorial service for friends and family in Europe. They were all so thankful to take part from a distance. We know many were not able to make it to the memorial service due to summer vacations. If you want to view his service, the streaming is now on YouTube. Please note it's close to 90 minutes:

https://youtu.be/51-jIRHEgGM

Special thanks to speech therapist Brittany and nurse Gemma to speak at the service, and to Dr. E. for playing the violin with her husband Anthony.

Here are many beautiful photos from Jacob's memorials service from our photographer Mary Elizabeth Graff. You can download any of them, if you like:

http://mbgpics.smugmug.com/Other/Jacob-hallberg-memorial-june/n-75KZkz/

And some more from Jacob's Celebration of life. Thank you Jeannene Evenstad for taking so many beautiful photos:























A dear friend and dad decided to decorate Bal Swan with balloons in Jacob's favorite colors red and blue. As the Celebration came to end, we decided to release the balloons to Jacob. What a perfect ending to the day:





We have been embraced with enormous kindness and love in the last ten days. We are forever grateful to our community of family and friends who stand by our side as we struggle to find a new normal. We invested everything we had in making Jacob's life the best life possible, we are now putting one foot forward at a time to figure out life without him here on earth. Our hearts are aching.

Much love and gratitude, Maria, Joakim & Sarah.










Thursday, June 23, 2016

MORE DETAILS FOR JACOB'S MEMORIAL SERVICE

I wanted to clarify a few things for Jacob's memorial service and Celebration of Life this coming Saturday.
Jacob's memorial service will be held on Saturday June 25, 2016, 2:00pm, at the Horan & McConaty Family Chapel, 9998 Grant Street, Thornton, Colorado. Feel free to wear Jacob's favorite colors red and blue, but no must!
A Celebration of Jacob's life will follow his Memorial Service at Bal Swan Children's Center at 4:00 PM, 1145 East 13th Avenue, Broomfield, Colorado. The Celebration of Jacob's life is an Open House between 4-8 pm. It's casual, and you can come and go as you please. Please bring your children! There will be crafts and play time for them. If you want to bring a side dish, please make sure it's nut free! Feel free to bring a bottle of wine to toast to Jacob!
We would love to see you all and share our memories of Jacob.
 
 
Much love, Sarah, Joakim & Maria.

Monday, June 20, 2016

JACOB'S MEMORIAL SERVICE DETAILS

Thank you for the ENORMOUS outpour of love. We haven't been able to keep up with all your messages, but please rest assure we will get to all of them in time. We are deeply touched by your love and support in this difficult time.

We are honoring Jacob’s life on Saturday June 25th at 2 pm at Horan & McConaty followed by a celebration of his life at his old preschool Bal Swan. Please see details in the link below:

http://www.horancares.com/obituary/Jacob-Hallberg/Brromfield-CO/1632087

We would love to see you all! Feel free to bring a side dish and/or a bottle of wine to Bal Swan to toast in honor of Jacob. We know we will have a crowd to honor Jacob's life.

In lieu of flowers, consider donations to Miracles for Mito, our non-profit supporting families living with Mitochondrial disease in the Rocky Mountain Region:

https://secure.1stpaygateway.net/secure/custompayment/coloradononprofitdevelopme/3114/default.aspx?

We would love to celebrate Jacob with you. Everyone is welcome!

Love, Sarah, Joakim & Maria.