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Showing posts with label Loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loss. Show all posts

08 June 2012

the anxious darkness | PPD




i have post-partum depression and anxiety.




if you only knew how hard that was to type. how desperately i wish i could press the backspace button and clear all memories of PPD anxiety out of my life.


instead. instead, i will share. because no one should be alone, and other people's stories helped me finally realize the bleakness that plagued my every waking and sleeping moment and stole the joy from my life.





it started after the birth of Jarvis. my first, long-awaited child. at the time, I didn't recognize it. we had been living in north dakota for only a couple of months and i didn't have a strong support group, and i was miles and miles from my family. i thought my feelings, my experience was just normal. having a baby is hard. it's normal to cry all day, right? ah, no, apparently not for months and months. i fretted over everything. i worried, i couldn't do anything right. i hated leaving my house and pushed away family when we visited because i was so worried about messing everything up. i felt like i would never sleep again and i was terrified to create bad habits. i had to control every single thing or i would lose it all. breastfeeding completely bombed with the words 'failure to thrive' at just 6 weeks old. my sweet boy lost all of his hair and was a frail little old man who was starving. i had failed. i felt lost and caught and ached so deeply all the time. he didn't sleep, he cried so much and I doubted every single decision. 


and then, just 4 months after we welcomed Jarvis into the world, in the midst of all that chaos, I was bounding down the stairs to happily show my husband those two little pink lines. we were pregnant, again! after struggling to conceive Jarvis for two years, we were unbelievably thrilled. they would be 13 months apart and we didn't care one bit. but my hormones, oh dear. still in the trenches of unrecognized PPD, and now experiencing pregnancy again, my anxiety and stress levels skyrocketed. my happiness slowly ebbed into all-consuming fear. how, how would i do it??


finally, the second trimester hit and i started to see the light, my hormones began to even out on their own, and for the first time in nearly 6 months, i was happy. i could do it, we would figure it out.




and then came one of the worst days of my life. 


'i'm so sorry, there's no heartbeat.' 


and in that moment, my life changed forever. just over 24 hours later I gave birth again. 8 months after we welcomed a screaming, breathing Jarvis into the world, I tearfully held my still, silent second-born, Job. 


and then four months later, i heard the same words again.




the next six was a mess of emotions. i can't tell you now what was grief and what was PPD and anxiety. i don't even know. all i know, i was not in a good place. instead of acknowledging it and reaching out for help, i retreated. i did what i knew best and hid. i was not the mother i wanted to be to my precious 1 year old. i didn't know how to be. i felt empty and bleak and hopeless. it seemed like nothing could ever be good again. even looking at my eldest made my heart ache as i grieved for what we had lost and what might never be. i put on a happy face, but the emptiness remained. i wanted these children so badly, but i could barely take care of the one i did have.


a few months later, we once again saw those two pink lines, but i couldn't let myself hope. but after 8 ultrasounds in a row with no heart tones, we finally saw some... two actually. 


my pregnancy with the twins was not as anxious as I would have anticipated. i focused on the pregnancy, month by month, day by day. so much so that i never really thought much about how it would be afterwards. how i was going to handle 3 kids under 2. it took an hour after my c-section before i was brought back up the room and allowed to see and hold my babies. and as i held my babies, my dearly wanted and loved children, i felt my anxiety level rise with every hour.


by the time they were 2 weeks old, breastfeeding was bombing again and i was watching my babies not gaining. and every day inched closer to the inevitable. being alone. with three kids. i dreaded my babies waking up, all i wanted to do was sleep. i didn't want to hold them. everyday the anxiety got more and more crippling and everything seemed more and more dark. i'm not really sure what the tipping point was. when i realized i couldn't go on like i was anymore. after many, tearful conversations with my husband, i decided, for him and my kids, to text a friend and ask for a name and number. except it took me three days to actually send that text message.


within in a week i was in an office, sobbing, telling my story, and realizing that the anxiety I felt was a manifestation of PPD. and after 3 weeks of a low-dose medicine, i finally began to see glimmers of light. i felt like i could breathe, like i could possibly leave my house, like things WOULD be alright. all of the sudden, all of those irrational fears, the inability to stop my brain from spiraling out of control analyzing every could or should be.


but. i didn't tell anyone. not even my closest friends. why? partially beause i didn't understand what was going on, and there was no way to describe it to anyone. i just didn't have the words. and partially from shame. shame that no matter how much i loved my children, sometimes i just wanted to curl in a ball and ignore them all. i know what it's like to desperately want children and have that negative test every month. i know what it's like to hold your lost child. i couldn't believe that i was so blessed with my children, yet still unable to shed this darkness. 


but that's the thing. i can't control it. i didn't choose it. i didn't do anything to cause it. i have always been an anxious person, and dealt with my anxiety by over-managing. but after i give birth. i lose control of my ability to rein in the anxiousness. i suffer from severe, crippling postpartum anxiety and depression.


my babies are 4 months old, and i am still on my low-dose meds. how long will i take them? i'm not sure. do i like that i can't deal with my anxiety without the meds, no. but do they allow my brain to relax enough to be the best mother and wife i can be? right now, yes. they allow me to breathe and to live in the moment instead of being consumed with the what-ifs. the downsides... weight gain, and a dip in my ability to multitask and plan. are they worth it? yes, right now.




PPD has been shown to get worse with each pregnancy, and we are not done. i let PPD steal a good chunk of Jarvis' first year, but i refuse to let it bury me with the twins and subsequent pregnancies. they have begun to show that PPD manifests itself differently in every person. mine is not typical depression but a depression born out of an overwhelming anxiety. my friends still don't know. they will learn of it when i post this blog. i still can't seem to find the words or situation to say it out loud. PPD doesn't mean that you don't love your children, or appreciate and want them. if you feel out of control or unable to cope, please, talk to someone. no one should have to live with that darkness.



18 February 2012

the tangled web | loss

the first moment you hold your brand-new baby(ies) in your arms after losing another child...

everything you thought you dealt with gets even more complicated.


having more children after a loss is just a big tangled web of
fear
hope
grieving
guilt
awe
appreciation
longing
desperation
love

add in a side dish of brand-new mother hormones... and it's a big ole' mess.

because no matter how much you love the new baby(ies), and how separate the love is for your living and lost children in your heart. 



motherhood is still forever colored a little differently.



The question is whether you let the shades of loss color everything darker... 
or whether the streaks of new sunshine can light up the old pains.


Don't worry. I'm doing just fine. I am blessed, and so much better for having known Job and Monkey.

But please keep in mind, if you ever meet another mother who's struggling with their feelings of guilt over having a new baby after having lost another, don't act appalled or like she doesn't lover her new baby as much as the first. Things are forever different after ANY type of tragic loss or pain.

And holding my children will forever make me long to hold my missing two children. It's reality. And honestly- I miss them even more now. 

But, oh, how wonderful that reunion will be someday.



And until then, I'll keep snuggling my precious children here on earth.





My dear friend Christa, who lost her sweet son Mason at just a few days old, wrote a post a few days ago that hit the nail on the head- hope she doesn't mind me sharing! But here's another mother's perspective as she celebrates the birth of her son Noah. Going through another pregnancy together at the same time was such a blessing and she has been an inspiration and support for me, as I hope I was for her.




02 February 2012

Remembering...

Today is the year anniversary of Job's due date. And while this may seem like I am 'dwelling' to some people, in the interest of being honest, I have very mixed feelings this week. Yes, we are so very blessed in so many ways right now, but Job deserves some remembrance, and he is very much a part of my everyday life and thoughts. 


Part of me wonders if anyone else besides me knows (or cares) that he should be turning one right now. Although it doesn't really matter if they do, because I know many people loved and grieved him. I can't help but think about what it would be like to have a one year old and Jarvis right now. How they would play together, how alike they would look, how crazed I might be- haha!


It's strange to be facing this anniversary with TWO babies who will be here any day kicking away in my belly. If we had not lost Job (and then Monkey), we most likely would not be having the twins. This knowledge doesn't make me grateful for having lost him- I would still give just about anything to have him here with us. But it does make me so very aware that the Lord has a bigger plan than we can see in the moment.


The first days (weeks, months) after I gave birth to and held my stillborn child, I felt so empty and I could not see how the Lord could have ever wanted this pain for me, or how He had bigger plans for me or anyone in it. It's hard to hold onto the Good and the Truth in the midst of all the pain.


But the mother I am today; the mother that losing Job has shaped me into- this mother is ready (and thrilled) to be having twins with a very spirited 2-year-old running around. The mother I was before Job, she could not have done this (I would have tried, but I would have tried on my own, not with the support of my Lord). My attitude, mental, emotional, and spiritual state would not have been ready for this challenge.


So yes, today I grieve. Despite the huge promise of new life at the tips of my fingertips, I am still sad. I miss my son. I wish I could see what he would look like today. I wish I could hold him and rock him. I wish I could see his big brother read him a book. I wish I could see him rolling on the floor giggling with my amazing husband.


But I know I will someday. And until then- I accept, and embrace, that my Lord has big plans for my life. He knows what I need and when. He doesn't promise it will be easy, but He promises to be there for me. And that. That is enough.


We miss you Job. We can not wait for the day we will all be together again!

18 September 2011

A Year

a year.


It's been a year.  


Doesn't seem like it's been that long. It still feels like yesterday in so many way.








Time passes, things go back to a 'new' normal, and everyone else moves on. That's what's supposed to happen when you lose someone you love. You grieve, you celebrate that you knew them, but life continues. Because our life is meant to be lived for His Glory. And with the knowledge that we never lose loved ones for good, but that someday we will gather with them in eternity. 


I believe that. 




In a year, I have already seen the good that the Lord worked in Job's short life. I've already seen bits and pieces of His plan revealed to me. I have been broken and shaped and grown as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, and leader. 






I wholeheartedly, without a doubt believe that the Lord had a purpose in giving and taking away Job. His plan is better than anything I can imagine. I know He is working good every single day of my life, if I seek to glorify Him.








But today. 


Today my human heart still grieves. I still hurt and ache to hold him. But most of all, the mother in me is desperate for people to remember him. Why? Because he is our son. Because I felt him kick. I gave birth to him. We held him. And because we lost him. Because is and always will be a part of our family. Because I will always have one more child, waiting on me, up in heaven.






Today I am infinitely more grateful for the blessings in my life, my husband, Jarvis, the twins, and the time we did have with Job. Because he changed my life. Forever. I lost my innocence but gained a stronger, deeper understanding of my amazing Lord. And because of him, I will never lose my hope. 





But the eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him,
   on those whose hope is in his unfailing love,
to deliver them from death
   and keep them alive in famine.
We wait in hope for the LORD;
   he is our help and our shield.
In him our hearts rejoice,
   for we trust in his holy name.
May your unfailing love be with us, LORD,
   even as we put our hope in you.
Psalm 33: 18-25

10 August 2011

Fear | Hope

It's a constant battle against the fear right now. Every moment of every day. I know too much, I've seen too much, I've read to much. I know exactly what can happen in pregnancy. And most of it has to me or someone I am close to. 


That fear can be suffocating and paralyzing. It robs you of your joy and peace and trust. It makes it hard to sleep at night and makes even getting the littlest things done difficult. 




But I'm not going to let it. I'm fighting back the fear and trying my hardest to trust. 




The book that probably made THE biggest difference in my attitude in dealing with losing Job was I Will Carry You by Angie Smith (thank you to my sister-in-law's mother, Mrs. Q for sending it!). Her words, her faith, her optimism made all the difference. She has a blog and I follow it often. This spring, I was reading up on old posts, and she has one called Permission to Hope. She's talking about her first pregnancy since losing her daughter Audrey. Back when they were first dealing with the news of Audrey's diagnosis, she photographer her older daughter asleep but still clutching a balloon and said they were doing the same thing, holding on to hope against all the odds. When they went in for an ultrasound with this new pregnancy, the tech mentioned that it looked like the baby was holding a balloon. She talks about how this gave her permission to hope, the knowledge that God was there. That there was no guarantee that this baby would be fine, but that He would be there with her the whole time.


I prayed those same prayers before out ultrasound at 8 weeks, Lord please give me some hope, some feeling of Your presence in this pregnancy. And when we first saw those babies on that screen, her post was the first thing I though of.... Do you see it?






It's not as perfect as her's was (go check her post) but I felt it in my heart, that hope. That knowledge that my God is all powerful, amazing, and He CAN do anything.  


Everyday I try, but it's still hard to fight back the fear. 


I haven't bought a thing for the twins yet. I just couldn't bring myself to. 


I bought Job a Duckie blanket the week we found out about him, and Monkey a little monkey sleeper. They lay folded in the empty bassinet by my bed. I can't bring myself to put them in the with rest of the baby clothes. I'm not sure I want them to be used. But I don't know what to do with them. At least with all the rest of the baby stuff, Jarvis used it, so there are happy memories attached too. But buying another car seat, crib, or matching clothes. Well there's always the possibility that they will sit there unused. 


But that's no way to live my life. I am THRILLED about the twins. I am ECSTATIC. And living in fear strips away all the joy. And like I have said before, I want to live every single day with them and enjoy it, not worrying when the last might be. 


"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:7


So my challenge for the week is to make some time to get to town and buy matching outfits. I promise to share them when I do! And I challenge you to face the fears in your life, throw all your trust on our Lord and march headfirst into battle. 


Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."
Joshua 1:9


09 June 2011

A bumpy ride.

ah. this grieving thing, it's certainly a roller coaster. a very bumpy one.


**I'm trying to be more transparent, more open about my feelings and shortcomings. I've been told that I can come across as perfect, as all put together. But I'm not, I'm imperfect and flawed and struggle. And I think that only in being honest and open can we truly help one another. That's the only way we can grow and bond. So here's a little open honesty for you.**




I can happily say that I have more good days than bad now. But honestly, the number of bad days still surprises me. I don't go a single day that I don't think of Job, and what our lives would be like with him. There's not a moment that I don't miss him and ache to hold him. There's so many things that remind me, that spark the memory of what it should be. What I wish it was. 


But most days, I can take a deep breath, send up a prayer for strength, and focus on being thankful for the amazing things I do have.




But not everyday. Every once in a while, it feels as though I just lost him yesterday. The pain is fresh and deep and still so heartbreaking. And it knocks me down completely.


That's when I find myself awake, alone, in the middle of the night, crying out to my Savior for some comfort, any peace. And do you know what usually works?


I have this box. I bought it just to hold my memories of Job. It's small, and doesn't hold many things, but it holds every single card or letter we received.




And so I sit, sort through the few things that mark his tiny life, and read every word of every card. I think about the prayers that those friends and family said over us, about the time they took to pick out a meaningful card, about the loving, encouraging, and comforting words they wrote. And I can almost feel the arms of every one of them hugging me. I can see their faces and feel their love.


Julie, at Joy's Hope, asked for advice and then wrote an amazing blog about What to do and say when a friend loses a baby. It's beautiful, please read it when you get the chance. In an earlier post over on her own website she asked for advice and personal experiences. And as I sat down to respond, I found that all I could think about, all I could remember, were the well-intentioned yet hurtful comments. The ones that belittled my loss and tried to explain it away. I found that it was hard for me to think of what I would tell people TO do. I could only think of what they shouldn't do or say.


It's amazing how much those few poorly worded, hurtful responses stick out so much in my mind when I have a box full of over 50 cards and letters that did just the opposite. 






So tonight, I am letting myself feel the pain and the loss as I immerse myself in the blessings that are my family and friends. I am allowing my loving God to show Himself to me through them, through their words. 





Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops

What if Your healing comes through tears

What if a thousand sleepless nights 
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise...

'Blessings"
by Laura Story



If you want to read more about Job's story, click here. 

30 April 2011

National Infertility Week | You are not alone.

So, this past week was National Infertility Week. Resolve is doing Bust an Infertility Myth. I faced infertility for 2 years, and overcame it, but I don't really have a myth to bust.


Instead, I just want to be open and honest about the feelings, emotions, and craziness that you face when that test turns up negative every month. I was very secretive about my infertility. A few people knew we were having trouble, but I didn't really talk with anyone. I hid my feelings and fears. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to express it to my husband or anyone without feeling like I was jumping on the crazy wagon. And it felt like I was the only person in the world who WANTED to be a mother and couldn't be one. I felt very, very alone.


You don't have to be alone. There are SO many women who are speaking out now and talking about their infertility struggles and talking about what infertility does to your life. 


If you've never experienced infertility, it is hard to imagine how it affects every moment of each month. 


The hoping, the wishing. The counting days. Charting temps, Clomid hormone surges, blood drawing, ultrasounds looking for follicles, cervical mucus, ovulation monitors, testing on day 28, then the crushing, sobbing heartache when your period starts again.


You aren't alone. I've been on that crazy wagon, and it feels like it's never going to end. I promise, you aren't crazy. But talk to someone. Me, a friend, another wanna-be mother, someone. Because infertility can do some major damage to you and your marriage. And that's the saddest thing, how the desire to become parents, or the loss of a child can tear apart a marriage. Be each other's support and encouragement. 


I will never forget the moment I got that first positive pregnancy test. Day 29, 3pm (see: crazy wagon, testing in the afternoon on day 29!), and the faintest little line. 2 years, 3 rounds of Clomid and I was finally pregnant. And hubby was night flying and I had to wait HOURS to tell him. 


I am so very blessed to have a happy ending to my infertility story. It changed my outlook on being a mother and has made me a better wife, daughter, mother and friend. And that sweet little exasperating 16 month old napping in his crib was that positive pregnancy test.


And since, I've had two more positive pregnancy tests that didn't end so happily. For many women, becoming a mother is a journey that takes much longer than 9 months gestation.


Trust in the Lord, He has a timing and a plan for everything. As difficult as infertility was, moving 3 times in 10 months with a newborn would have driven me insane. He knows us and He knows the desire of your heart, and more than anything He wants to give it to you. It may not be in your time, or your schedule, but He has an amazing plan. 




Delight yourself in the LORD, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass. ~ Psalm 37:4,5 

26 March 2011

Tears and Encouragement | Refined in Him

Tonight, as I sat with another woman who has been coping with loss for many years, I was reminded of the power of like-minded friends. If you surround yourself with positive people, people who truly believe and have overcome trials and hard times, you will prevail. But if you surround yourself with pessimism and anger, you will stumble.


"As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend." Proverbs 27:17


As she and I sat and talked for hours about pregnancies, our babies, our losses, the blessing of our living children; as we cried together, ranted, and laughed; I felt encouraged. I felt lifted up and blessed. Every word and tear was a relief, and as we shared our failings and our struggles, we were able to find words of encouragement and truth for one another.


It's so amazing to me to see the Lord's hand in my life in such a visible way. People are put into your life when you need them, to support, inspire and encourage you. I have been blessed to have the opportunity to talk to so many women in the past few months who, despite their struggles and losses, are able to be positive and loving. They are not defined by their struggles, but rather are refined by them. Shaped into stronger, more loving, passionate, supportive women. 




Ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the air, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea inform you. Which of these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind. Job 12:7-10


As our conversation wound down, it turned to the gratefulness we have for our living children, and for the time we had with our lost babies. We both agreed that ultimately, the biggest lesson in struggles and loss is to be grateful for every day. We wanted to tell every person we knew to be grateful for the unpleasant side effects of pregnancy, to be grateful when you put your child in time-out, to be grateful when your teenager yells I hate you. To be grateful for every moment. Or to as least try.  


Because life has only one guarantee; if you trust in the Lord your God, he will welcome you into Eternal life with Him. Nothing else is for sure. Nothing else is deserved. We are blessed to be His children, and we should live every day grateful for the blessings and trials He give us.

"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways." James 1:2-8



So will you let your life DEFINE you? Or will you let it REFINE you into the person the Lord is calling you to be?


I am not defined by my struggles or losses. They will always be a part of who I am, I carry them in my heart. They have and will continue to impact my life, but I am determined to be better for them, to grow, to overcome. And with His help, someday, I will perfect in Him.


Hugs,
C

12 March 2011

This is the stuff | Inspired

Heard this song again on the radio the other day, definitely spoke to me again, so I decided to share it.




I lost my keys in the great unknown
And call me please 'Cuz I can't find my phone

This is the stuff that drives me crazy
This is the stuff that's getting to me lately
In the middle of my little mess
I forget how big I'm blessed
This is the stuff that gets under my skin
But I gotta trust You know exactly what You're doing
It might not be what I would choose
But this is the stuff You use

45 in a 35
Sirens and fines while I'm running behind
Whoa

This is the stuff that drives me crazy
This is the stuff that's getting to me lately
In the middle of my little mess
I forget how big I'm blessed
This is the stuff that gets under my skin
But I gotta trust You know exactly what You're doing
It might not be what I would choose
But this is the stuff You use

So break me of impatience
Conquer my frustrations
I've got a new appreciation
It's not the end of the world


This is the stuff that drives me crazy
This is the stuff
Someone save me
In the middle of my little mess
I forget how big I'm blessed
This is the stuff that gets under my skin
And I've gotta trust You know exactly what You're doing
It might not be what I would choose
But this is the stuff You use

10 March 2011

Monkey | Grief and Hope

I've had this post written for a while. I debated on it and prayed on it and thought about it non-stop. 

And then a friend in a similar situation told me, "If I can help even one person, then sharing was worth it." I had been feeling that in my heart, but sometimes it's hard to find the words.





On Christmas Day 2010, we found out we were expecting again. 



The emotions I experienced in that moment were overwhelming and conflicting. When you've lost a baby before, all the innocence of pregnancy is torn away. You know that that little stick doesn't guarantee that you will hold a living, breathing, crying, beautiful baby in 9 months. 

We were completely and unequivocally thrilled. We can only imagine the blessings more children would bring and want that desperately. But I was also completely and utterly terrified. My hubby is so very positive, so trusting. So we decided early on to try be excited, to try and not let the fear be overwhelming. Our little Monkey was very loved and desperately wanted. 




Three weeks later, I went for my first ultrasound and things did not look normal. However, I was sent home with a glimmer of hope and told to come back. 

A week later, some progress made a definitive diagnosis still uncertain. 

Two more long weeks, waiting, hoping, grieving. Clinging onto the tiniest spark of hope. Just waiting. 

The final ultrasound confirmed what we suspected, so we decided to wait it out and miscarry naturally. I needed to know for sure, I needed my body to tell me definitely.

At almost 12 weeks, we lost our Monkey.




I am sure some people will wonder why I am sharing this. Why I have decided to let people know now, after the fact. And to be honest, my feelings on keeping pregnancies secret at all is very complicated. Sharing while in the midst of pain isn't helpful for me, I need to process and deal on my own.

But sharing now... well it means I might be able to help someone. To give just one person some hope and some understanding. To connect with so many other women who face infertility or loss. I'm not sharing for attention, or to make people feel sorry for me. I'm sharing because there were amazing women who stepped up to help me, and I want to pass that on to other women in need.


I have been in a situation twice this month to talk to mother's who have recently lost their babies. I feel so passionately that we, as women, should support one another. Encourage, lift up, cry with, just be women together.


So here I am sharing my story. I'm here. To talk. To scream. To pray. To rant. To agree with all the feelings that you aren't willing to admit to others, but that I promise you I have felt and still do feel.




In case you don't know, we experienced 2 years of infertility before fertility drugs helped conceive our first son, Jarvis. We lost our second son, Job, at 20 weeks, for unknown reasons. We lost Monkey at 12 weeks to a blighted ovum.


I've experienced so much more than I would ever wish on someone, but also so much less than so many others face.


Ultimately, it just makes me so very grateful for Jarvis. For the miracle and blessing that is him. He is amazing and I strive to cherish every single day we have with him. No matter what, I have him, and I am so blessed to be his mother, and if that's all I ever get... it's enough. He's more than enough.


So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. John 16:22

04 March 2011

stumbling blocks

It seems like this 'season' in my life is going to be a very long, very hard one. It seems like I am surrounded by the stumbling blocks of loss.




I got the call this morning that one of our precious moms from my MOPS group was facing one of the hardest situations ever. She went in this morning to be induced with her baby boy and they were unable to find a heartbeat.




I spent several hours up at the hospital with them, doing what I could, trying to find the words to comfort them, all the while knowing it didn't matter what I said. Praying that something would give them hope, some comfort. But knowing nothing would.




A sweet, precious, innocent baby boy was born sleeping this afternoon. And though I am rejoicing that he is perfectly loved in his Savior's arms, I am so very broken for two amazing parents who's arms are achingly empty tonight.




So please pray for them, and their older son. They are making decisions and facing a world so foreign and painful. Facing something no parent should have to endure.







As I sat there in the room where I delivered Job, and watched them cry and beg and ask why, I can't help but feel every bit of the pain again. It will never go away. I am changed forever. I am broken. I am better for having had Job. And I pray that I can somehow be the hand of God for someone when life seems so very bleak.






Xander,
I can't imagine heaven's lullabies
And what they must sound like
But I will rest in knowing
That Heaven is your home
And it's all you'll ever know.


Sleep peacefully sweet boy, you are missed.



04 February 2011

Project 52 | Fragile | Week 5

52:5

motherhood is

fragile


and precious,

and sometimes much too fleeting.






This was a hard week around here. 


Our sweet 'Duckie' was due on Wednesday. And all week we have been facing the dreams and thoughts of how our lives should be right now. But instead of sleepless nights rocking a newborn, we lie awake grieving the loss of Job.


I wasn't sure I wanted to share this picture on here, it just seems so very personal. But I know our family will appreciate this at the very least. After a lot of thought and debate and prayer and searching, Hubby and I found the perfect urn. 


I don't have any more words right now, but I can only imagine the beauty of heaven and I rest in the hope and love of my Lord.



I can’t imagine heaven’s lullabies

and what they must sound like 

But I will rest in knowing, heaven is your home 

And it’s all you’ll ever know…




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(Those of you who are just now joining me for Project 52 may not know Job's story, click on Duckie to read about our precious child.)

31 October 2010

Before the Morning.

This isn't an entry I particularly wanted to write. I'm not sure why I've had so much trouble sharing this information, as we have had it for several weeks, but I have. However, I feel that it's important that you, our family, know the results.

After much deliberation and prayer, we had decided to have an autopsy as well as general blood screening done on Job. Not everyone will agree with this, and it was a very hard decision for us. The chances of knowing what happened and if it could affect other pregnancies went up drastically with an autopsy. We knew we couldn't do anything for Job and that his soul, his life, was up with our Lord.

We got back the results a couple weeks ago, and they were normal. Everything was normal, perfect, developing well, no issues. The cord and placenta were good. There were no genetic abnormalities and his chromosomes were normal. They were unable to give us any reason that Job's heart stopped beating.

In the long run, this is good news, there appear to be no major issues with me that would affect future pregnancies, although we can't be completely certain because there are some things they can't test for after the fact. It is hard news to swallow though, because it makes losing Job seem even more pointless.

We still have hope in the Lord and trust in His big plan.

Do you wonder why you have to,
feel the things that hurt you,
if there's a God who loves you,
where is He now?

Maybe, there are things you can't see
and all those things are happening
to bring a better ending
some day, some how, you'll see, you'll see

Chorus:
Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

so hold on, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling, 
it's just the dark before the morning

My friend, you know how this all ends
and you know where you're going,
you just don't know how you get there
so just say a prayer.
and hold on, cause there's good who love God,
life is not a snapshot, it might take a little time,
but you'll see the bigger picture

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

so hold on, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling, 
it's just the dark before the morning
yeah, yeah,
before the morning,
yeah, yeah

Once you feel the way of glory,
all your pain will fade to memory
once you feel the way of glory,
all your pain will fade to memory
memory, memory, yeah

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

com'n, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling,
it's just the hurt before the healing
the pain you've been feeling,
just the dark before the morning

Before The Morning- Josh Wilson





Love, J, C, & J