FMF: Dream

Dreams.

Dreams can mean things we see while we are sleeping. I have strange dreams while pregnant, like the one where my husband turned into a giraffe...

Dreams can mean things we wish for or hope for. Right now my dream is to hold a living, breathing, squirming, screaming baby in my arms and actually get to bring her home.

Dreams can turn into nightmares. I've lived through two of that kind. Twice I have dreamed of bringing home a new baby and ended up with empty arms and two holes in my heart.

I find in these last few weeks of pregnancy that the fear is beginning to creep up again. I do not want this beautiful dream to change into a fearsome nightmare yet again. I find myself over-analyzing every tiny symptom, questioning whether or not I should go in to Labor and Delivery for each little thing.

I am having to remind myself several times daily that I need to choose FAITH over FEAR. I need to hold on to the beautiful dream, and take the nightmare I fear to the Lord in prayer and leave it at His feet. I need to repeat Philippians 4:6 to myself again and again: Do NOT be anxious about ANYthing, but in EVERYthing by prayer and petition, with THANKSgiving, present your requests to God.

FMF: Following Jesus

Joining Kate  for another Five Minute Friday

Follow:

As a child, I used to read the verse, "take up your cross and follow me," and I never really understood what it meant. I used to think it was very strange. As I grew I started to understand it a bit better, as I had to bear things like ridicule from non-Christian friends, and being left out of things that happened on Sunday mornings because my family went to church every Sunday without fail unless you were home sick in bed.

Now in my adult life, I am learning a whole new meaning to the phrase, "take up your cross and follow me."

I am learning that every single one of us has a cross to bear. We were given it at conception in our mothers' wombs along with the sin-nature that was handed down from Adam. We all have to bear that symbol of death and destruction due to sin.

We don't have a choice what our particular cross looks like. For me, it partly looks like saying good-bye to my precious babies. For my cousin it partly looks like raising four preschoolers one of which has special needs including a feeding tube. For my college roommate and dear friend it partly looks like losing her father as a teenager.  For a dear friend and colleague this week it partly looks like holding her mother's hand in the hospital not knowing if she will ever come home on earth or if it is her time to go home to heaven.

We do not have a choice whether or not we will bear a cross, and we do not have a choice what our particular cross might look like each day, but we do have a choice of what to do with our cross. Some choose to buckle under the weight of carrying our crosses ourselves, barely inching along life's road weighed down, tired, and discouraged. Others choose to try to ignore their crosses, paint them up fancy and disguise them to look like something else. Some might just plunk their cross down in the dirt and refuse to go on.

Me, I have chosen to daily pick up my ugly, heavy, pock-marked cross, and follow Jesus. I follow Him because He bears my cross alongside me, shouldering the heavy load. I follow Him because He doesn't disguise it or ignore it, but rather promises to one day exchange it for a crown of glory. I follow Him because He gives me strength to put one foot in front of the other, even when I cannot see where the road I am walking goes up ahead, and I am surrounded by darkness.

And one day when I get that crown of glory, I will lay it down again at His feet and I will be able to say with that great hymn, "All the way, my savior led me!"

Happy Birthday, Sweet Girl!

One year old today

365 days of this earth traveling around the sun,
And now you're one!
Happy Birthday, Sweet Girl!

I imagine how chubby your thighs would have been, 
As you toddled around with frosting coating your chin,
From your beautiful birthday cake.

I imagine the curls of your hair,
and the sticky crumbs you would share 
With your loving big sister June Bug.

I imagine the gifts and ribbons and bows,
And dressing you up in the cutest new clothes,
And watching you play in the paper.

I imagine the giggles and smiles and babbles,
And the wonderful sound of your voice speaking 
Straight to my heart, "Mama!" 

I have to just imagine, you see,
Because you are no longer here with me.
365 days since my heart shattered. 

You are one year old today.
I wish that you could have stayed,
To celebrate with us. 

But even as we are down here,
We smile through our tears, 
To think of Jesus holding you in heaven.

I never got to bring you home,
But one day He will bring me home to be with Him,
And you,
Forever.

Sibling Day

In case you didn't know, today is sibling day.

My Facebook news-feed is filled with photos of people with their siblings. Some when they were children, some as adults, some even have both.

As much as I love my siblings, and enjoyed seeing the photo my own sister posted, it does hurt a bit. You see, I will never be able to have a photo with all my siblings, and neither will June Bug. I can't help but wonder how many of those other photos have missing siblings as well.

Though it was never talked about a lot in my house growing up, I lost a sibling to miscarriage when I was 4 years old. We never got to meet this sweet baby, and I don't even think we knew about the existence of this baby until we were much older. I never really gave it much thought until I experienced losing a baby of my own.

And now June Bug has two siblings she'll never get to see this side of heaven. I could try to get a photo, using the teddy bear we have for Mikayla and the little owl knitted by a fellow loss-Mama for Selah, but it's just not the same. Our family photos will be forever incomplete just like my heart will forever be missing pieces.

Until we are made complete. One day when I stand before my savior and he fills in the holes in my heart with His healing love, and fills my aching arms with my babies I miss so much, I will be complete. Until then, I will be glad that June Bug has a sibling she will hopefully get to see and touch and play with come July. I will be thankful for the siblings God blessed me with on earth and the laughter and tears we have been through together. And I will mourn for the missing siblings in far too many homes.  

The Mingling of Hope and Grief

Yesterday was Palm Sunday.

Last year on Palm Sunday I was in the hospital recovering from labor. I spent most of the day either in numb shock, or curled in a ball bawling my eyes out wishing I had died too.

This year I was at church, and only cried twice; when we sang songs about Jesus overcoming death.

Jesus overcame death. Mikayla's death has been conquered, destroyed, overthrown. She is alive and well. Selah, too. Not alive in my arms, but alive nonetheless.

Right now I am 22 weeks pregnant. I am a handful of days past the point where Mikayla left my womb for heaven. Mikayla's 1st heaven day is coming soon, and this Easter season will probably forever bring with it reminders of my sweet girl gone too soon. It's been an emotional week, and will probably continue to be an emotional time until I make it past April 13th.

And yet, the emotions are not all bad. The cup is not only full of grief. There is a sweetness to it as well. A sweetness that my babies are enjoying the wonder of heaven. A sweetness that this new little girl is wriggling around inside of me healthy and strong. A sweetness in knowing that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God. A sweet hope that all things are indeed working together for good.

So despite the triggers of grief that rip the scabs off my healing heart and cause the sorrow to flow once more, I grasp hold of the glorious promise that God is the healer, the giver and keeper of life, and I cry "Hosannah! Hosannah! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!" and the prayers flow out of my lips as the tears flow down my cheeks and the hands are lifted high in praise to the God who knows the pain of watching your child die, and the God who brings life out of death.

Making Room for Joy

Since Mikayla died and was born, I can count on one hand the moments I have felt truly happy without a cloud of fear or anxiety or sadness clouding the moment.

Today, I was given one of those moments.

I was putting June Bug to bed with our nightly routine: shower, pjs, brush teeth, drink of water, bedtime story, prayers, hugs and kisses, and lights out. We were snuggled on the bed together and I was reading a chapter of Betsy-Tacy  - a book I enjoyed as a child - on our tablet. I was holding the tablet resting its end on my lower belly, when I felt it. Baby was kicking! Baby was kicking at the tablet!

Now I have felt things that I thought might have been baby earlier on, and the other day I felt a few distinct flutters that I knew had to be baby, but this was different - vibrant, strong movements without a shadow of a doubt caused by little arms and legs exploring this thing that was pressed up against their home. I told June Bug about it, and we both enjoyed some giggles at the thought.

It was only later, when I had finished the chapter, said our prayers, and turned off the light that I realized how pure a moment of joy it had been. I was also able to remember feeling Mikayla kick at June Bug's musical teddy bear without the overwhelming feeling of acute grief, but rather a fond memory with just a hint of sadness.

I know there will still be days of weeping and pain. I know it will still be a long journey, but I do feel like I have turned a corner somehow. Like I have crawled far enough down the tunnel that I can actually see a glimpse of the brilliant light waiting for me up ahead.  

I am learning to make room for joy again. And it feels good.

FMF: Waiting in Faith

Joining in for a 5 minute Friday free-write with Kate and the gang

Prompt of the week: WAIT


GO:

I can't wait!

I can't wait until I can feel this tiny baby moving and kicking and reassuring Mama that all is well.

I can't wait until this awkward little bump grows big enough that I look pregnant and not just bloated or fat.

I can't wait to find out if June Bug, Mikayla, and Selah are getting a baby brother, or another sister.

I can't wait to be waddling around big and pregnant, complaining about back aches and cankles.

I can't wait to have a baby shower and wash all the tiny precious onesies and sleepers and itty-bitty mittens and socks.

Most of all I can't wait until a doctor places a screaming bundle of life into my arms and gives congratulations instead of condolences.

In the meantime: faith, not fear. FAITH, not fear. That is my mantra for 2015, and I repeat it to myself every time the enemy creeps in and whispers that maybe I can't trust God because after all, didn't He let me down before?

In the waiting place, FAITH, not fear.

STOP

My Letter to Grief

I got the idea for writing a letter to grief from Kate Motaung, who encouraged readers to write their own letters. I began this letter several weeks ago, but it got to be too raw, and I had to back away for a bit, but I came back today feeling ready to tackle it. So here goes.



Dear Grief,

Over the past nine months I have tried holding you at arms length. I have tried bringing you in for a snuggle session. I have tried ignoring you and trying to pretend you were never there. I have gotten angry at you. I have coddled you like a newborn kitten and fed you until you became a tiger who nearly turned to devour me. I have researched you. I have tried to plumb your depths. I have ridden out your waves, even when I nearly drowned. You could not take me under.

Grief, you came into my life that early morning in the Emergency Room of the local hospital when I stared at the screen of the ultrasound machine, eyes searching for my wiggly baby and only finding a still stone instead. Strange that there should be a stone there. Where was my baby? Was she hiding? There must be some mistake. And then when I should have been hearing the delightful wild-stallion cantering clip-clop of her precious heartbeat, there was only silence. And I knew. I knew she was gone, and you crept in and made yourself known. An unwelcome guest in a place that should have been filled with hope and reassurance. You showed your ugly head that morning.

 You weren't through with me yet. In fact, you were only getting started. You embraced me as I was caught in the throes of contractions which should usher forth life, but instead were only bringing forth death. You held me as my precious daughter slipped into this world silent and still, when the only cries were that of a mother whose heart was ripped in two.

You were gracious to me those first few weeks. You let me ignore you for a bit; hold you away from me. But slowly, slowly, bit by bit you wormed your way in. You twisted into my heart and left it open and raw and bleeding. Scabs have formed now, but every so often you like to come and rip the scabs off as well, bringing up all the pain all over again.

You've been a constant shadow to me these nine months, sometimes almost disappearing for brief times when the joyful sun shines so brightly straight ahead that I can ignore you for a while. At other times you stretch large and spooky and make me want to hide under the covers like a frightened child. Especially now, that new life is growing in my womb. Now I am scared of you more than ever. I know your full power, and I don't want you coming close again. And yet I am powerless to stop you.

But I don't have to. I can live with you. I can let you come and go, ebb and flow, because I know that there is one in me who is greater than you or anything else in the world. He beat death. And because He beat death, He will one day banish you, grief, forevermore.

So I can close my eyes tonight, snuggle with my pillow, and sleep in peace knowing that though you can be so all-encompassing some days, you are merely a constant companion until the day I see Jesus and He strips you off of me and clothes me instead in pure joy.

Until then,

A Grieving Mama choosing to live by FAITH, not fear

A Bittersweet Thanksgiving

I can't help but think how if things had gone differently, I could be introducing my 3-month-old baby to my grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins today as we gathered around the table to give thanks.

I can't help but think if things had gone differently, I could have been finding out Selah's gender, and have a tummy gently swelling with a baby inside, instead of just bloated from too much turkey.

And yet, I do have a lot to be thankful for.

I am thankful that I have a beautiful healthy 5-year-old who is reading up a storm and singing praise songs that she makes up and prancing around the living room in her princess tiara and twirly skirt.

I am thankful that though it has been a rocky road, and the bumps are still not all smoothed out, my marriage is still intact.

I am thankful that God used my tragedy to get me out of a toxic work environment (which I was reminded again this week just how toxic it really was) and into a job that is full of love, grace, and mercy, with coworkers and bosses who come along-side and encourage and lift up instead of tearing down and pointing fingers and talking behind backs.

I am thankful for a new doctor who is ready to do anything it takes to help us bring a baby home.

I am thankful for two pink lines that showed up on a pregnancy test early this morning, and the opportunity to be Mommy to another precious little soul.

I was reading Psalm 139 this morning, and thinking about the fact that God knew each day that Mikayla and Selah would be in my womb. He knows exactly how many days June Bug will walk this earth, He knows how many days I have left until I see my babies in heaven. And He knows already how many days I will be blessed to hold this new little life. He is knitting this baby together in my womb, and that is a wonderful privilege to be a part of another miracle.

When I lit my candles in October, I lit an extra one for hope. This pregnancy brings me hope, but my hope is not in this pregnancy. My hope is in the God who created and sustains it. My hope is in the Savior who loves me. My hope is that God would be glorified through my life, and through the lives of all my children, however many days each of us may have on this earth.

Day 31 and FMF:The God who Never Leaves

GO:

I will never leave you nor forsake you.

Some people ask, where was God? Where was God when I was hurting, sick, in pain? Where was God when my loved one left this earth too soon? Where was God when my heart was shattered into pieces?

I know my God is here. I know He never left me nor forsook me. I know He was holding my tight the night my world fell apart.

Some ask what kind of God would take away a baby that was loved and wanted and precious and perfect?

I know that God works all things together for good. I know He always has a plan. I know my babies are not suffering, but are rejoicing and worshiping around the throne of heaven! What kind of God gives us that opportunity to be with Him in glory!?!

He has never left my side. He has never let me down. He has never forsaken me. He has held me when I cried and filled my heart with peace and joy when I thought I would never feel those things again. True healing can only come from the great Physician.

I read in a novel the other day that there are 5 kinds of healing: healing of our immune systems constantly fighting off illness, healing through medical treatment, truly miraculous healing, healing of our hearts and attitudes even as our bodies continue to suffer, and finally the ultimate healing of dying and being given a new glorious body that will never be in need of healing again. My babies have been given ultimate healing, while my grief is being healed in the fourth way - my heart and attitude are slowly but surely looking more toward Christ and less at the horrible pain left behind after loss.

STOP.

Just a note - I found a new doctor. I love my new doctor. Seriously, even though he is expensive, he is worth every penny. He has ordered a whole new set of tests to try to find answers, and has given me a game-plan for what to try even if we don't get any answers, he's ready to throw everything he's got at me in hopes something will work. And after basically being told it was all a big fluke so we'll just watch and see, someone who is willing to DO SOMETHING is a breath of fresh air! And, since I just started my first cycle after losing Selah, it's time to try again! Praying that God will give us the desire of our hearts soon; praising Him in all things.

Day 15: LIFE!

Day 15 of 31 Days  of Healing is very special to me and near and dear to my heart. I also LOVE that Kate's prompt for today is LIFE! I believe we have a God who is sovereign even (especially?) in the small things - even things like blog prompt words, so I know this is no accident!

Today is special because it is a holiday. Not one you'll see on many calendars, not one you'll get a day off work for, and not one that anyone ever really wants to have a reason to celebrate. It is a holiday I wish there was never any need for, but since we do live in a fallen world where babies die, I am glad there is a day set aside to remember.

Today, October 15th, is set aside as Pregnancy and Infant Loss (PAIL) Remembrance Day.

The Bible talks a lot about remembering, and special times of remembrance for His people. They generally involve remembering God's faithfulness during times of trial and tribulation.

Today this is my day of remembrance of God's faithfulness to me in the midst of Mikayla's stillbirth and Selah's miscarriage. I remember God's faithfulness to me and my family in the days that followed. I proclaim again God's continuing faithfulness to me today and forever!

As part of PAIL remembrance day, people around the world light candles at 7 pm local time and keep them lit for at least one hour. The idea is that this will create a continuous  wave of light around the world.

I lit 4 little tea-light candles tonight. One for Mikayla Sophie, one for Selah, a third for June Bug: one for each of my babies. I wrote their names on their candles. On the fourth I wrote one word: hope. For me this candle represents the hope that God will bring more children into our family when His timing is right.

At one point tonight, I glanced over and all the candles had gone out except for June Bug's. I felt a bit like it was an omen of some kind, that only my living-on-earth child's candle had not gone out. I felt like it was a bad sign that the "hope" candle had gone out, especially!

But then I thought to myself, "What can you do when you start to lose hope?" I realized that the best way to rekindle hope is the way the writers of scripture so often did, by revisiting and remembering God's goodness, grace, mercy, and faithfulness in the past.

I looked at that June Bug candle still brightly glowing in the darkness, and it was very symbolic for me. June Bug is a living picture of God's faithfulness to me. So I used her candle to re-light the others.

As I did so I remembered that my hope is in God's faithfulness, goodness, mercy, and grace. I remembered God's faithfulness and grace in giving June Bug life that continues here on earth, and for giving Mikayla and Selah their brief lives here on earth followed by a life that can never be extinguished.

I thank God for LIFE. For June Bug's life. For Mikayla's life. For Selah's life. For the lives of the children He will bless us with in the future, whether biologically or through adoption or some other way of His choosing. I thank Him most of all for giving us eternal LIFE through His death and resurrection.

So today, we remember. We celebrate the LIFE of these little souls who came to us for a short time before returning to the giver of LIFE.

Day 10 and FMF: Care

Day 10 of 31 Days of Healing and joining up at Kate's for Five-Minute Friday, a flash-mob of writing for 5 minutes on a given prompt every Friday. Come join us!

Word of the week: Care

GO

Some days I find it really hard to take care of myself. I stay up later than I should, wake up long before my alarm goes off, and then fall asleep on the couch as soon as I walk in the door after work. Some days I find it hard to eat, or find myself eating everything in sight (as long as it's unhealthy). I'm still struggling with the whole exercise thing, though I have made some progress (twice a week is better than zero, right?), and if my husband wasn't so outspoken about personal hygiene I would probably go days between showers sometimes.

What makes me keep going through the motions? What makes me try to take care of this body that betrayed me and killed my children (yes, I am being a bit melodramatic there, but only slightly)? I have to keep reminding myself of these truths:

1. My husband expects me to take care of myself. I know he will ask me when he gets home from work about what I ate today, whether or not I exercised, and I better have taken a shower and brushed my teeth or I'm sleeping on the couch!

2. My big girl needs her Mama. As much as I wish some days that I could just lie down and die and go be with my tiny babies, I know I could never do that to my June Bug. seeing her anxiety and pain when I was on bed rest and in the aftermath of losing Mikayla when she was worried I was going to die made me realize how how important it is to carry on for her sake.

3. My little ones would want their Mama to take care of herself. In loving my body while Mikayla and Selah were with me, I was loving them by extension. I shouldn't do any less now that they are gone. I can still love the body that was the only home they ever knew on earth.

4. My future babies (D.V.) depend on me being healthy. If I give in to my desires and let my body fall into decay, I am only hurting my chances of having healthy babies some day in the future. I need to do the best I can to be the healthiest home for my babies so that they might (with the help of God) be able to live in my womb long enough that they can also live in my arms.

5. My God has given me this body as a gift, and it is the temple of the Holy Spirit. I am called to care for what God has given me and use it for His glory to the best of my ability.

So while I am tempted to just give up and not care and let myself get fat and lazy and sick, I will fight it. I will do my best to take care of this body God has given me for however long He sees fit to let me live in it, and then I will welcome the new body and new life He will give.

STOP (Actually I lost track of time, so that may have been more than  minutes)

Day 8: Little Yellow Duck Feet

Day 8 of 31 days of healing

There is a bag up high on my closet shelf. I put it up there on April 12, 2014 after coming home from a children's clothes swap at church. I have only taken it down once since then, but after reading this article on Still Standing, I decided to get it down again tonight.

Inside there is a little yellow sleeper with frogs and turtles, and a little yellow duck on a turtle's back. There's a green-and-white sleeper with bumblebees. A sweet sleep sack with zoo animals, and an elephant that says "Little peanut," a yellow romper with a bunny rabbit eating a carrot, two pairs of tiny white socks that were so soft I couldn't pass them by. My favorites are a pair of orange, yellow, green, and turquoise striped newborn gloves to keep those tiny razor-nails from scratching a precious little face, and a pair of little white pants with yellow duck faces on the feet.

Mikayla's clothes.

These clothes were lovingly gathered for a baby I didn't yet know was a girl. A baby I didn't yet know would never get to wear any of these things. A baby I never would have dreamed would go to heaven early the next morning, on Palm Sunday.

If I had known, would I have done things differently? Probably not. Well, I would have added in a healthy dose of pink there with the yellows and greens and whites. I might not have taken the practical things like bibs and plain white onesies (which was the reason I took down the bag once before, to send those things to my brother-in-law whose wife is expecting a baby boy any day now. I didn't want to do it, and cried the whole time I was sorting through Mikayla's things, but my husband convinced me, so Mikayla's cousin will get to wear her clothes that she never got a chance to). I might have taken something with me to the hospital when I went to the ER with contractions, so that I could have taken a short while to be Mikayla's mother in some small "normal" way, dressing her and holding her tiny body close to my heart.

But I didn't know.

Now I do. Now, those clothes are incredibly precious to me. They, along with a positive pregnancy test and a single red rose that I dried are the only physical reminders I have that Mikayla ever lived here on Earth. For Selah, I have even less - only the pregnancy test and a blurry photo that no one but me would ever recognize as my baby held on the tip of my finger. But a person's a person, no matter how small.

I pray that God will allow me to put these clothes to good use some day, and Mikayla and Selah can look down from heaven and see a little baby brother or sister with little yellow duck feet, and their Mama smiling as she carries this baby in her arms, and two others in her heart.

Day 6: What I Know for Sure

Day 6 of 31 Days of Healing

In the wake of tragedy, so often we let our emotions run wild. Comfort and peace, however, are found in what I know about God and His plans for my life. I decided today to follow Kate's prompt: Know, and make a list of truths to repeat over to myself when I am tempted to give in to despair and anxiety and worry.

I KNOW:

• That God is on His throne  Isaiah 46:9-10  "I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose.’"

• That He is working all things together for good (Romans 8:28)

• That my babies are in heaven, free from suffering in the arms of Jesus Revelation 21:4 "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

• That He who began a good work in me WILL carry it through to completion (Philippians 1:6)

• That I do not need to be anxious about anything, but rather I need to in everything by prayer and petition and with thanksgiving present my requests to God (Philippians 4:6)

There are so many things I don't know, and so many questions I still have, but I do KNOW that God is good all the time, and all the time, God is good. 

Day 5: Triggers

This morning I watched my beautiful June Bug sing on a stage, and she did such such an amazing job. Then they brought up the preschoolers to sing. It brought back memories of June Bug's first of such concerts, when she was 2 and got up on stage with her preschool class for their Christmas concert and proceeded to cry through the whole thing with her fingers in her mouth.

It also brought something else. The reminder that I won't get those memories for Mikayla, or for Selah.

In church this morning there were 2 different couples I knew were bringing their tiny babies to church, with everyone crowding around the car seats to coo over the sweet little bundles of joy, as I felt like a boulder had been dropped onto my stomach because those happy moments were ripped from my life.

Then tonight I was watching A Little Princess with June Bug, and when the main character said that her Mama was in heaven along with her baby sister it was all I could do to hold back the blubbering, knowing it was only by the grace of God that June Bug could only relate to half of that statement.

I don't know how long the rawness will last, or how often the scabs of my heart will be ripped off before the new skin finally grows back, leaving only the scar. Some days are better than others, and sometimes I am fine seeing pregnant women, tiny babies, etc. while other times something as simple as two sisters fighting in the supermarket can send me into all-out panic mode,

I am praying that God would work in my heart to help me count my blessings whenever the ugly green jealousy monster shows up. I am praying that He would help me overcome the envy and fill me up with love. I am praying that God would help me to cherish the moments I have with June Bug, without worrying that she may never get a sister or brother here on earth. I am praying that God would keep my heart soft and stop the pain from fermenting into bitterness, but rather blossom it into love and compassion for others.  

I can't stop the triggers from itching at my heart, but I can choose to look for the beauty and goodness of the Lord in all things, and to rejoice with those who rejoice even in the midst of my mourning.

And I will leave you with a poem:

Loved and Lost
Better to have loved and lost?
Even if your heart gets buried and crushed
Under the weight of snow and frost
In the winter of heartache where all joys are hushed?

Even if your heart gets buried and crushed
And all that remains are fragments and dust?
In the winter of heartache where all joys are hushed,
The naked trees whisper of Spring bound to come.

But all that remains are fragments and dust
And a shadow of a shell of a ghost.
Still the naked trees whisper of Spring bound to come,
"Better to have loved and lost!"

Day 4: Learn

Day 4 of 31 days of healing

I have always loved to learn. Since I was 4 years old and learned to read, I have devoured information. I can spout off facts about any number of subjects. However, there is a difference between learning and putting into practice.

I have read my Bible cover to cover several times, and of course favorite passages get read more often than say, Numbers or Amos. But it has only been in the past few years that I have truly learned what it is to be a Christian and what it means to take up my cross and follow Christ.

Thanks to the Holy Spirit and the encouragement of brothers and sisters in Christ, I am learning how to walk worthy of the calling I have received. It is not an easy road! It is full of bumps and potholes and scary curves, but I am also learning that my savior is better and sweeter than I ever imagined. He has drawn near to me in a way I never thought possible, and given me strength I could never have had on my own.

And that is what is holding me together.

Day 2: Point of View

I'm back for day 2 of the 31-day writing challenge, and decided to also join Kate Motaung doing a five-minute free-write on the topic: View.

GO:

Why is it so easy for us to fix our view on the past, dwelling on what has already taken place, mulling over the "what if"s and the "if only"s. Wondering if maybe things could have, should have, would have been different if...

It's also easy to fix my view on the future, giving in to anxiety and dwelling on fears of the unknown. Fears that history will repeat itself and I will be asked to give up a baby too soon again.

Why is it so hard sometimes to view everything through the proper lens? The glasses that God wants us to put on?

Instead of wondering about and lamenting the past, I should be focusing on what I can and should be doing right now. Spending time in the word. Building relationships. Worshiping. Fishing for men. Making disciples.

Instead of worrying about and fearing the future, I should be looking toward eternity. Remembering always that this life is not the end, and my treasure must not be found here where moth and rust destroy and thieves break in and steal and death snatches away life and seems to have the last laugh. Instead I should be building up treasure in heaven where moth and rust do not destroy and thieves cannot break in a steal and where LIFE has swallowed up death in a final and decisive victory.

Lord, grant me your point of view.

STOP

31 Days of Healing

I've decided to try and stretch myself a bit and join up with http://write31days.com/  to write every day in October. I may also join in some of the 5-minute free-write prompts at http://katemotaung.com if I feel inspired.

I chose to name my 31 days project: 31 Days of Healing as I continue on my journey of searching for healing from the Great Physician in the wake of losing a daughter to stillbirth and another baby to miscarriage. I hope that it may also be a journey of physical healing as I may soon get some of the answers I so desperately searched for earlier only to be told "everything was normal" when my intuition screams that it wasn't and isn't.

I am glad to be a part of this project, and I know writing has been a big part of my healing journey thus far and will continue to be. There is a reason John refers to Jesus as the Word. There is power in words, and Jesus is the ultimate Word by which all my faltering lisping words begin to come together and make sense.

Happy reading and writing!

Day 1: Moving Toward Healing
Day 2: Point of View
Day 3: Making All Things New
Day 4: Learn
Day 5: Triggers
Day 6: Know
Day 7: Sore
Day 8: Little Yellow Duck Feet
Day 9: Join the Praise
Day 10: Care
Day 11: Resources
Day 12: I will Give you Rest
Day 13: 13 Revisited
Day 14: Away
Day 15: LIFE!
Day 16: Adjusting to a New Normal
Day 17: Long

The Hurricane of Grief

I know a lot about hurricanes. I have lived the past 7 years on an island that is vulnerable to hurricanes, so I have had to become educated about them. I have learned that along with the high winds and heavy rains, storm surge is an often overlooked danger during a storm - the fact that the ocean water will rise up higher than normal, which when coupled with heavy rains causes additional flooding. I have also learned that in addition to the well-known "eye," the rain and winds in a hurricane come in "bands." There will be times when the wind is gentle and the rain sprinkling, followed by pouring rain and thrashing winds, over and over in a pattern.

I feel like my experience with Mikayla and Selah has been very much like a hurricane. When I began bleeding with Mikayla, it was like when the weather forecasters see a storm forming way out in the ocean. At that point everyone is wondering which direction it will really go. Will it come right at us for a direct hit? Will it miss us entirely, or fizzle out before it hits land? Or will it skirt by us giving us lots of wind and rain, but leave us with little or no damage?

With my hospitalization and my water breaking, it was looking more certain that the storm was coming our way. There were still no guarantees - we've seen several hurricanes that looked like they would hit us dead-on that have curved at the last minute and spared us. It was time to fill up the pantry, batten down the hatches, and put up the shutters. In spiritual terms, it meant filling up on gospel truths and God's faithful promises, and sending up prayers and petitions.

When I went into labor at not quite 22 weeks, I knew the storm was centered right on us. With a hurricane, this would be the time to fill up the bathtub and sinks and all available containers with water, and pull out the candles and flashlights. With a stillbirth, this was a time of crying out to God to spare me if possible, and to fill me with His presence and His light to bring me through the storm and its aftermath.

Just like the wind and rains, the grief comes in waves and bands. It will ease up for a bit, and then out of the blue hit me like a tree branch and knock me on my knees.

Not everyone in a hurricane will pass through the eye. Only where the hurricane passes directly over will there be a true calm in the midst of the storm. They say the most dangerous part of a hurricane is directly after the eye passes. The reason for this is two-fold. First, the strongest winds are in the eyewall just behind the eye of the storm, and second, some people will be lulled into a false sense of security by the calm blue skies outside as the eye is passing over, and they will venture out of their shelters and begin assessing the damage that has been done only to be caught unaware by the remainder of the storm.

My pregnancy with Selah was a bit like being in the eye of the storm. I could see the sun shining outside, and blue sky peeking through the clouds. Thankfully I knew enough to stay inside my shelter of the Almighty's arms even during this calm. I did not let the prayers stop, or give up on feasting on the Word of God.

When the eyewall hit of losing Selah, it was a double grief. A grief for the loss of another precious baby, and the loss of the calm and hope I had experienced during those weeks I knew Selah was with us.

I am now passing through the back side of the storm. I don't know how much longer it will be until it passes over. The grief is still coming in bands, some stronger, some calmer. My heart is still being battered and bruised.

But I know I will make it through the storm. Because my life is built on a firm foundation, and is capped with God's mighty hand, it will not fall. Even before hurricane season, when building a house where hurricanes may blow, they must be built on a firm foundation, with proper construction and a strong roof to withstand the winds and the rain and the surge. Without that foundation, the house would be washed away.

Clinging to my rock.

Five Minute Friday: Because

 


Joining the 5-minute flash-write. I look forward to Thursday nights to get me through my week. This week's going to be a rough one, though.

Prompt of the week: Because

GO

Why? 

So many questions without answers. Why did I start bleeding? Why couldn't the doctors do anything to stop it? Why didn't I go on bed rest sooner? Why didn't I get tested after June Bug's birth? Why did my baby have to die? Why did I never even hold her, or take pictures, or even touch my precious girl? Why did God let me get pregnant again only to take away that baby, too? Why didn't my insurance card come sooner so I could have gone to the doctors sooner to get an action plan before it was too late? 

Why do I keep beating myself up over choices I made that were the best I could have done with the knowledge I had at the time?

And the only answer I get is the answer God gave to Job. Because. Because I AM. 

Because God is sovereign, and His ways are not my ways. Because the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, and all I can do is say, sing, shout, "Blessed be the Name of the Lord!" 

Someday I will know the because to all of my whys, but for now I am content to cast all my whys and what ifs on the I AM. 

STOP