Happy 6th Birthday Angel Boy

I'm not giving up on this blog.  Just been a bit busy with a newborn!  Mitchell's namesake, Clayton Mitchell was born Jan. 17th.  He's beautiful just like his older brother.

Today is our special boy's birthday.  We're going through pictures, reminiscing and missing him so painfully much; grateful for the time we've had with him and looking forward to reuniting with him again.  Happy Birthday little buddy!

Life Goes On

It's not that I want to quit Mitchell's blog, or that I just don't care.  It's not even that it's too hard, at least not to my conscious mind.  Perhaps subconsciously I don't want to "deal" with any of these emotions so I avoid them instead.  I don't know.  I do want to keep remembering and maybe this is a good way to do that.


Our friend, Keith, passed away within one hour of Mitchell.  He was an almost five-year-old sweet boy battling medulloblastoma.  His mother, Darcee, and I have corresponded for almost two years.  She definitely understands how I feel.  I hope she doesn't mind me linking her blog, but if you're interested in reading my thoughts, hers are almost identical.

We are doing okay; that's the only word that can capture the essence of our feelings.  I am mostly grateful for the beautiful life we live; we have the gospel of Jesus Christ, each other, necessities of life, and our health.  I am so grateful for my husband and other children--they mean everything to me.  Gratitude fills the emptiness in my heart and allows me to continue forward being happy.  That being said, there are minutes, hours, and days that come where I feel really sad.  None of this seems possible or real.  How can he be gone?  Why did he have to suffer so much?  Although I remember many good, beautiful memories, I am also haunted by recollections of his frail brave body, pushing forward day after day.  That breaks my heart and always brings tears.  Sometimes I just have to sob and feel it all as much as I try to avoid it.  It's hard...there's no way to change that.

I've dreaded certain days coming, but have been amazed that on those days I don't feel sad at all.  Obviously it is a blessing and I am grateful.  I admit that the holiday season itself has been a challenge.  Nothing in particular sets me off, but there's just a feeling of sadness.  I am, however, very proud of myself because I did put up Christmas decorations even though I had about zero desire to do it.  I am excited to celebrate with my children and this Christmas we have some service planned that I hope will make things brighter.

We continue to appreciate all of the love and support we receive from our family and friends.  Whether a text to let us know you're thinking of us, or a treat left on our door step, it all means so much.  I was talking to my cousin the other day and she said her friend who lost a child mentioned how those acts acknowledged to her that others still remembered her child.  I think an underlying fear for us parents who lose children is that everybody's life moves forward and there's a desperate feeling to keep your child's "life" going.  It's just so hard to do because the truth is, the world DOES keep moving forward even though our lives are stopped/slowed.  It hurts, but it's just the way it is.  That's why it feels so great to read of other's service in Mitchell's behalf.  Even though he can't be here any longer, it is nice to see his memory moving forward along with everyone else.

We pray you all have a safe and happy holiday season.  Cherish your time with your loved ones and focus on those things that matter most: the Savior, family, and caring for those who need.

In Memoriam of our Angel

This is the slideshow Chad made for Mitchell's funeral.  It's so beautiful--I had to share.  Chad put a handful of the recurring quotes Mitchell always said.

Mitchell Barclay Hatfield: February 20, 2007 - September 2, 2012

Mitchell Barclay Hatfield came into this world on February 20, 2007.  The pediatrician from the first called him "stubborn," which although initially made his mommy mad, in retrospect is very true and a gift.  He knew his mission and that he didn't have long to complete it.  He was always a very funny, playful little boy who liked attention and to be in the action of things.  Life for him changed suddenly in April of 2010 when his first symptom--a droopy, non-tracking right eye occurred.  Yet, he was still able to run and play until November of 2010 when he suddenly awoke unable to walk.  He was then diagnosed with a brainstem glioma and endured 15 months of treatments.  Every doctor and nurse he came in contact with were immediately drawn to his sense of humor, smile, and playful warmth.  Wherever we would go, he'd say, "Hi, I'm Mitchell!" and proceed to divulge every detail he had.  He loved his brother Jackson and sister Eden very much.  He and his brother would often be found sharing the same bed and staying up late talking.  Of his sister, he often commented, "Isn't Eden beautiful?"  The love was and is mutual.  His mommy always knew he was special and laughed at his antics.  His dad was and is his best buddy, "No matter what...we just are."  Although we are sad that today, Sunday, September 2nd he left our earthly home, we are so grateful for the knowledge that we will be together again.  Mitchell was just too good for this world and came to bless our lives and those of all those who met him.  We love you always and forever Mitchell!  We will miss you; until we meet again!

Share Mitchell's Smile

I know many are anxious for an update on Mitchell since things are always changing.  He has seriously declined and as of the last couple of days has not been able/willing to swallow food and drink.  This is common as our bodies slow down and prepare for death.  He sleeps almost all day and is almost completely unresponsive/communicative.  Obviously he no longer "feels" like our little boy, but it does feel like we're holding an angel and we are cherishing these days.  While this is obviously painful and heart-wrenching, we are trying to focus on what we know to be true.  Death is not the end, but another glorious beginning.  Just as when we come into this world, death is the portal to move into the next; a world of peace, free from pain and sorrow and full of joy and love.  We have felt angels administering to us and Mitchell in our home and it has been so special to participate in such a sacred sphere.  Even still, there are moments of intense sadness, fear for how I can ever let his little body leave my arms--and I KNOW it's just a body!--and pain watching his little body deteriorate.

One thing that keeps us going is our Mitchell's ongoing service to us.  While he can't talk or move, he still tries so SO very hard to smile for us.  It is truly inspiring and heartwarming.  He has done this all through these past two and a half years and we never cease to be amazed at how he knows we need this and how much it lifts us up.  He is totally amazing!

After weeks of prayer on various issues, one of which is a way to honor Mitchell and who he is, we received a very (and I mean VERY) strong impression that we are to hold a day of service in Mitchell's honor.  September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month and we feel it is fitting to honor Mitchell as well as all of these amazing souls who have both succumbed to or survived cancer.  This service can be big or small; individual or as a large group.  We plan to wear yellow and feel that this service will make a big difference for both those who serve and those who will be served.  We are working on a website: mitchellsday.org, which should be finished later this week.  We also should have some publicity materials, ie video, out soon too.

The day is SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 15th, but if for some reason that date doesn't work for you, please make an effort on a day of your choice in September.  We are hoping for people to email us via the website and we'll post your stories: what you did, how you felt, how it impacted your community, etc.  We hope this will be an ongoing annual event, and possibly might have a facebook page with monthly ideas of service activities to keep us all going.  We believe service more than anything else can change the world faster and more effectively than anything/anyone else and to this end we strive to honor Mitchell's legacy!

Mitchell's greatest desire in life was to be a missionary, which essentially is a life of service.  We know this is how we are supposed to honor him and his smile.  PLEASE get out there and "Share Mitchell's Smile" on Mitchell's Day!

Our Mitchell Boy

We have had a wonderful month of family time.  We were able to see extended family members at a family reunion as well as our cousins, aunts, and uncles.  Mitchell has a difficult time in crowds because of noise, so we stayed home part of the day so he could relax.  We also spent a lot of the month going on and off of medications trying to find something that would bring him relief.  He was spending approx. 6-8 hours each day screaming.  He couldn't respond to questions so we didn't know how to help him and he didn't like to be touched so we pretty much just had to sit there feeling helpless and frustrated that he has to go through such agony.

As always we continued to pray for direction in how we can help him and for him to feel how much we love him.  We also prayed for at least a level of relief to come to him so he would not feel such suffering.  Knock on wood, but we are hoping we've found the right equation of meds for him to feel a bit of comfort throughout the day.  It will be a constant evaluating process as to what level of intensity he should be at, but at least we know these particular meds can work.


We started hospice a couple of weeks ago.  They come in twice each week to check vitals and make sure we are stocked with the necessary medications.  They also have a person who comes in to talk with Jackson, making sure he is emotionally healthy and well.  I feel our family has been blessed with amazing strength through all of this. I do think overall Jackson is doing well, but I also want to make sure he is able to express his deep-down feelings to someone because he doesn't always like sharing them with us.

Both of our families have been amazing helping us through this.  We're very fortunate in that regard.  I feel a large part of this trial is learning to allow others to help us, but I am really struggling with how to make that happen.  I truly do spend time each day thinking about how someone might be able to help me, but I end up feeling a lot of stress by the end because I can't come up with anything!  That is why it is so wonderful when little "treats" show up at my door or random forms of service because I feel the love and it was something someone else thought to do.  Does that make sense?  We have learned a lot about service and supporting people in trials from so many who have done so much for us.  It is a priceless blessing.  Just last weekend some amazing individuals spent hours and hours putting on a garage sale fundraiser for our family (and another dear friend going through a similar trial) and it was so touching to see the time and thought put into us.   There are so many wonderfully kind-hearted people in this world!

These are some of the beautiful pictures our very talented friend, Mary Thompson, took for us about a month ago.  She captured our family beautifully.

Living in the Moment

I'm not quite sure where to begin.  I guess I'll start with the June 22nd MRI.  The poor doctor filling in for our oncologist (who was on maternity leave until July 2), was sure put in a difficult position.  The MRI showed stable results, yet we were telling him all of Mitchell's symptoms, which are certainly alarming.  Because of the conflicting accounts he brought the MRI to tumor board the following week and after looking very closely, the team decided there could be growth on the opposite side of the tumor.  We went again this past Monday to speak to our regular oncologist, and she basically said that if Mitchell had no symptoms she would just chalk the MRI up to the drug he was on, which often produces sketchy MRIs.  But, because his symptoms are so quickly and heavily returning, she agreed the tumor is definitely growing back.  

Our oncologist had not seen Mitchell since February--our last MRI she was present for--and she was very saddened to see the decline he had experienced.  She shared that she was emotionally invested in Mitchell and had very high hopes for his outcome.  She was very sorry that not only was he declining in health, but that he had experienced such a drastic behavioral change.  She agreed that treating the tumor at this point is not worth it, nor would it be extending a "quality life."  Mitchell's behavioral challenges are truly a mystery to all involved.  They have never heard, nor seen a brain tumor patient have these struggles to the extent Mitchell has them.  He was struggling with harming others for several months, but in the past month especially has done a lot of harm to himself.  He bites his own arms, legs, hands, etc; tries to choke himself; drown himself; fall down the stairs; and many other random and sad acts.  All of this is definitely NOT our Mitchell. He has said he hears voices and often seems conflicted.  

Medically, both eyes are almost completely shut all of the time; his right arm shakes; his balance is gone; his swallowing reflux is disappearing; and his speech is becoming less intelligible.  He cries a lot of the day and night (although we just started a sleeping pill--yay!).  His doctors said there are no pain receptors in the brain, therefore he should not be experiencing pain, but it makes no sense.  He is clearly in discomfort.  Despite their claims, we are still giving him small doses of oxycodone hoping to alleviate whatever it is that bothers him.  

I realize this is all quite depressing and dismal, but we choose to be grateful.  We are very grateful for the time we've been given with him.  He is such a special and powerful little spirit that has brought so much happiness and joy not only to us but those around him.  How lucky are we to have been entrusted with such a boy?  My sweet husband still continues to hope for a miracle.  As he says, the angel didn't come to intervene with Abraham and Isaac until the last possible second.  I admire my pillar of strength for his faith and hope.  I feel guilty that my hope is so weak.  I blame it on the mom in me who is trying to be prepared.  I worry for my sweet boy and the pain and suffering he is and will endure.  It breaks my heart.  I worry for my other children who will be confused and heartbroken to lose their brother.  I worry how in the world we will ever be able to do this.  But, then I remember I don't have to worry about any of this.  Heavenly Father is asking us to do this and He will take care of Mitchell and all of us.  He has a plan.  He will never leave us and He will embrace my sweet angel boy in His arms.  

Handsome father and his sons. 

Our pup Tucker came for a visit!  

We enjoy every moment, especially the happy ones!

 Grateful.