Happy Bereaved Mothers Day!

A day that I never knew existed until last year is here - Bereaved Mothers Day. You learn a lot when you lose a child. 

And I know some people would question my blog post title, because how can anyone ever put the words happy and bereaved in the same sentence? And yet, even as a bereaved mother, I have a lot to be happy about.

I am happy that I had the opportunity to carry my babies in my womb even if only for a short time.

I am happy that I have a sweet sunshine daughter June Bug who loves and remembers her baby sisters Mikayla and Selah.

I am happy each time I remember Mikayla's kicks, that hot chocolate always made her dance, and I am happy I got to see her face even though it was only a brief moment. Though all these memories are mingled with sadness, there is happiness there, too. 

I am happy that Selah passed peacefully and at home instead of in a cold hospital bed with drama and needles and doctors and nurses. I am happy I had the time to truly say good-bye. Again, I wish the ending could have been different, but if she had to go away so soon, I am glad it happened the way it did.

I am happy that I have a rainbow on the way who will not in any way replace Mikayla or Selah, or make me love or miss them any less, but who will enrich our lives and bring joy to our family.

I am happy that I have a loving heavenly father who knows and understands the pain in my heart and offers His comfort and peace.

I am happy that the same heavenly father is holding and loving my precious babies for me until the day I get to see them again. 

I am happy that through the wonders of the internet I have learned and found other beautiful and courageous mothers who are walking this most difficult of roads alongside me. I am happy we have each other for support and encouragement, and the healing power of a simple, "Me, too!"

So yes, I wish each and every mother who has ever had to say good-bye too soon to her precious child a very Happy (though probably bitter-sweet like so much of life) Bereaved Mother's Day. 

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.

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 29: Words that Unite

Day 29 of 31 days of Healing, I'm joining up today with incourage to share that words matter!



Words are things that can bring people together or tear people apart. Going through my journey post-loss, I have seen numerous posts by various people of things to say or not to say to someone who has recently lost a child or baby. Words can encourage and build up, healing a broken heart, or they can tear down and add to the already overwhelming weight of a loss.

I will not offer a list of phrases to say or avoid, but I will say that words are very important. Speak to me. Speak the names of my babies. Do not skirt around the issue, because words shared with a friend can be a healing balm. Listen to me. Let me share my story. Let me put my love into words and paint a picture in your mind of the precious life I carried, though you never got to meet my baby.

I have been blessed by words shared by others, words that unite, words that let me know I am not alone, and the emotions that are boiling over in my heart are a normal and natural reaction from the intense fire of saying goodbye. Words that let me see the beauty that can blossom from the ashes. Words that give me hope for myself that the fire will not always be such a fierce and painful thing, but will settle down to a pleasant warming of love.

I offer up my own words here, both for myself and for others. I have always needed to process feelings through words, but I also hope and pray that my words might also bless those who read here as I have been blessed by the words of others. Most of all I hope that all of my words will point upward to the WORD become flesh who dwelt among us.

Day 26: Visit

Day 26 (Ok, so it's not actually, but I'm trying to catch up here!) of 31 days of healing. Joining Kate with a 5-minute free-write on the word VISIT

GO:

There have been 5 new babies born in our church family over the past month. After each one, a joyous email is sent to the whole church body announcing the name, details, and that Mama and Baby are doing fine. Then there is usually some comment about whether or not they are ready for visitors, and/or how to help out the new parents.

The pastoral prayer this week included all the new parents and babies, prayers of thanks for their health and blessings for their futures. It also included all the expecting mothers (of which there are quite a few!).

I can't help but think - what about the rest of us? What about the mothers like me who didn't get the fairy tale ending? What about coming to visit and bring a meal for the mother who doesn't have a cute newborn to show off? What about looking at the heart-wrenching but still beautiful photos of the stillborn baby? What about prayers for healing of the broken hearts of the mothers who got something they never expected?

It is wonderful to celebrate new life. I am genuinely happy that our church family has so many blessed little ones. But I can't help feel a bit forgotten. Yes, we are to rejoice with the rejoicing, but where are those to mourn with those who mourn?

When a father, mother, sister, brother, cousin, aunt, etc. passes away, there is always a throng of people sharing their memories, giving condolences, bringing comfort. 

When a baby passes away before it was born, there is often silence and a sense of loneliness. 

I have been grateful to find sisters online who have been through loss of a baby, but in real life there have been very few who have reached out to me in my pain. My mother and grandmother, and my former college roommate, and another friend from college who experienced a miscarriage around the same time as Mikayla was stillborn. 

We need to do better. We need to acknowledge these precious little lives that continue in heaven. We need to mourn with those who mourn even as we rejoice with those who rejoice. Stillbirth is still a birth, and a life lost before birth is still a life. 

Day 19: Honor

Day 19 of 31 days of healing, and joining Kate for a 5-minute free-write on the word Honor

GO:

I consider it a great honor to have served as the only home my Mikayla and Selah ever knew here on earth. When I look at my still-pudgy tummy and my ever-more-sagging chest, I remind myself that this body has housed not one, but three miracles.

Miracles take room to grow. Even the ones that only stay for 8 weeks leave the mother they grew in changed forever, body and spirit.

Yes, it is an honor to be called mother. It is an honor to have been trusted with tiny miracles, even for a short time. It is an honor to have held precious little souls created and knit together by God in my womb.

STOP.

Day 18: A Name

Day 18 (a little late) of 31 days of healing

Today when I opened my Facebook page, I found a pleasant surprise.

This photo:

 Look closely - go ahead, make it big. See there? Right near the top left corner? There it is! My baby girl's name. Written lovingly by Grieve Out Loud. Joined with so many other precious little ones who are dancing with her now around the throne of Jesus. I clicked over to their website, scrolled down, and there on the right down-curve of the S:

Selah's name, too! I had almost forgotten submitting them a few weeks ago, and it made me so happy to see them beautifully written in these precious memorials. 

And I realized suddenly, that seeing their names brought me joy. Joy alone, untainted by sadness. I was happy to see their names; to see them remembered and recognized. To know that there are others out there who believe ALL LIVES MATTER. 

And I realized that I am healing. Being able to feel pure joy without the shadow of sadness is a wonderful feeling, and one I haven't felt since Mikayla's heaven day. 

Thank the Lord for His blessings.

Day 16: Adjusting to the "new normal"

Day 16 of 31 Days of healing, 5-minute free-write on the topic: adjust.



As someone who moved a lot growing up, I am very familiar with change. Living in lots of different countries and cultures, I am very familiar with culture shock. I am familiar with dealing with change, and having to learn to adjust to a new way of life that is different from your old one. Not necessarily worse, not better, but just different.

Grief is somewhat the same way.

I remember after one of our moves when I was 9, I became very angry and hated everything about the new country I was living in. I hated the language they spoke there, the food, the way people dressed, just everything about that country. At the same time, I longed for and idolized my life in my previous home. I missed my old friends, my comfort foods, being able to speak without worrying about saying the wrong thing...

At first as I moved into grief I hated everything about my loss. I hated having conversations about children or babies or motherhood because I was always on the verge of tears. I hated the way my body felt, tired all the time, weak, and flabby. I hated myself for all the would have, could have, should haves. I longed to go back to a time where babies didn't die. At least not my babies. Maybe someone else's, far away. I wanted to go back to feeling strong and womanly, knowing my body was the home of a tiny human.

The thing is, you can't go back. You can only go forward, and the sooner you accept and recognize where you are and who has led you there, the sooner you can pick up the pieces and adjust your attitude and find things to love about the new, different, yes difficult, but also blessed, place you are right now. The sooner you can move on with adjusting to the new normal.

Don't get me wrong, I still miss the days of blissful ignorance before I knew what pPROM and MTHFR were, or that 1 in 4 women will experience some type of baby loss at some point in her life. But I am learning to be content to follow where he leads, and lean on Him for strength for the journey.

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 14: Away

Well, on day 14 of 31 Days of Healing, Kate's  prompt was actually quite appropriate because I was literally away, so I'll do 2 posts today to make up and get back on track.

5 minutes on the word AWAY.

GO:

My babies have gone away. Nothing can bring them back.

But my God is still here. He has always been here. He will always be here. My God will never go away. I might feel like God is distant, or I am distant from God, but really He is always near and it is only my perspective that changes.

My love for my babies will never go away. His love for me will never go away.

"I love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my babies you'll be!" ~Robert Munsch

STOP

but never stop. Never stop going to the heavenly father with prayer and petition and thanksgiving. Never stop remembering. Never stop loving.

Day 13: 13 Revisited

Day 13 of 31 days of healing 


Well here it is again. The 13th. That date I dread every month. This month in particular because it is the 6 month mark. I cannot believe it has been half a year since I said goodbye to my sweet Mikayla Sophie. In some ways it seems like it was ages ago and I was a completely different person then. In other ways, it seems it was just yesterday the two of us were enjoying some hot chocolate together as I lay in the hospital on bed rest with multiple tubes running in and out of my body and I was so full of hope.

I think I am doing better now than I was 3 months ago. I have fewer bad days, and they are less severe when they do come. I am generally staying on top of things and beginning to find my equilibrium in the "new normal."

I do feel like I am healing, slowly, bit by bit, being knit back together.

Today still hurts.

Day 12: I will Give you Rest

Day 12 of 31 days of healing, joining up with Kate for a 5-minute post on the topic of Rest.


Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

God made the world to function in patterns of waking and resting, day and night, summer and winter.

Go knows so well that we, the people he created, need our rest that he led by example and reserved a day out of every week as the day of rest.

Rest is so very important. And immediately following the loss of Mikayla it was the thing I struggled with the most. I would have a hard time falling asleep, then wake up multiple times every night. I found it hard to take naps. Sunday mornings in particular I was awake by 5am every week, feeling like a bowling ball had been dropped on my belly as I re-lived birthing my sweet girl who had already flown to heaven.

Now I have the opposite problem. Since I got a positive pregnancy test with Selah, I have wanted to sleep all the time. I go to bed early, hit the snooze once or twice every morning, and am ready for a nap when I get home from work pretty much every day. I didn't expect to still feel this way this long after losing Selah, but I still do.

Yes, rest is important, but too much is not good either. I am striving to find the balance between insomnia and constant sleepiness. It's hard.

But ultimately my soul finds rest in God alone, and He is the one that can stir my soul to action. I lean on Him to help me find my way, finding just enough rest under my savior's wings.

Day 11: Resources

Ok people. It's day 11 of 31 days of healing and I am feeling very uninspired and can't think of anything to write about, so I decided to look at Carly Marie's Project Heal for ideas and decided to jump back to her day 8: Resource, and list some resources I have found that have helped/are helping on this journey through grief toward healing.

• Project BEAR

This is an awesome ministry which sends teddy bears to anyone grieving the loss of a baby. I ordered one for June Bug which she calls her "Baby Sissy Bear." I found this site after previously seeing Molly Bears and realized I would rather have a simple bear quickly and for free than pay $20 and have to wait possibly years to get a fancy bear. That's just my opinion, though.

• Still Standing

This online resource is a great place to read stories by other parents who have had their children or babies die. There is a lot of encouragement and practical advice on there, as well as just the reassurance that I am not alone in feeling the things I feel or doing the (seemingly odd) things I do after loss. It is affirmation that though loss changes you for life, you can keep standing, and even begin to walk again.

• CarlyMarie

Another resource that encourages healing and working through your grief in productive ways.

• Surprised By Suffering

A great book that helped me explore where my loss and grief fit in with my faith.

• A Place of Healing

Another awesome book that helped me wrestle with the hard issues of faith and God's love in the midst of pain.

• My mother and grandmother 

Two amazing ladies of faith who experienced the pain of losing unborn children themselves. It helped to know that they have traveled this road before me, and went on to live happy, fulfilled and faith-filled lives and have more healthy children.

• The Holy Bible

Through the work of the Holy Spirit helping me to see God's love and faithfulness, and through reading accounts like that of Joseph and Job and Jesus himself who went through great suffering through which God was still faithful and working all things together for good. I am thankful for a God who can take my hurt and brokenness and turn it into beauty.

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 7: Sore

Day 7 of 31 Days of Healing

Well, since Day 1 when I wrote about needing to exercise more, I have indeed tried to do better with that. Last night I did 20 minutes of Pilates, and boy am I feeling it today! My legs were aching walking up and down the stairs at work, and my arms are protesting any time I lift anything heavier than a pencil today!

But one thing I have noticed since losing Mikayla, is that I find myself getting sore whenever my grief is beginning to bubble up. Even (especially?) if I haven't done any exercise or anything to cause soreness, I feel my shoulders, neck, and upper back getting tense and just aching. I think it is a physical mirror of my emotionally aching heart.

I noticed it was very bad right around Mikayla's due date, and in the beginning it would happen every Saturday afternoon through Sunday morning as I marked another week without my sweet girl. This week I was really sore on Monday even though I didn't work out Sunday or Monday.

I wish I had money to get a massage every time this happens, but instead I try to find the emotions that are building up, and put them into words either here or in my journal, or sometimes just pouring them out in prayer to God. Then I take some time to relax and focus on the many blessing that God has given me. This doesn't completely take away the physical pain, but it does help to ease it, and does wonders for the emotional side of things. Of course, a nice hot shower or a soak in the tub helps, too!