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.  

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

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 24 and FMF: Dare

Day 24 of 31 Days of Healing, and Five Minute Friday

I realize it is Saturday, the 25th, and I am behind. My husband unexpectedly has a week off work, so I have been making the most of it to spend time with him and haven't gotten to blog the past few days.

So here goes, 5 minutes of free-writing on the word Dare.

GO:
When I was a kid, I would always choose the dare. I was fearless. I was the one who rode her bike down the biggest hills, feet not even on the pedals, skidding to a stop, heart pounding, with a grin plastered on my face.

Then something changed. I became the reserved one, always playing it safe. Always cautious and following the rules to the letter.

I've begun to find my daring side again. I guess after losing something so important to you, that you love so much, that hurts so hard, and seeing that you CAN still breathe, everything else loses the scariness.

Well, almost everything - I have become more fearful of June Bug's health and safety. Losing her would be the only thing more painful than losing Mikayla and Selah.

But everything else  - financial trouble, issues at work, worrying about what people might think. None of those things matter anymore. I will take the Dare and tell it to bring its worst, because it can't touch the depths of what I have already faced.

STOP.

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 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 9: Join the Praise

Day 9 of 31 Days of Healing ; following Kate's prompt - "Join" for 5 minutes of unedited free-write.



Welcome to the club, Jenna. The club of mothers who have little ones waiting for us in heaven. We know that no one wants to be a member of this club. The rite of passage to get in is one of the worst you will ever experience.

One thing I must say, though, is that the members here are incredibly supportive. We all know how much it sucks and how terrible it is to say good-bye to your baby, so we gather around any new recruits with open arms and flowing tears to embrace you with love and understanding.

Your little Shane joins a chorus of precious little souls who gather around the throne of our heavenly father, singing praise without ending to the one who gave them the blessing of being carried in a womb full of love, for however short a time, and the greater blessing of living for eternity free from suffering, sadness, and pain.

Jenna, I want to thank you on behalf of all of us in this club, for being brave enough to share your journey. Thank you for speaking out and letting others know that your baby matters, and by extension, our babies matter. Your Shane has touched the lives and hearts of thousands, and though our babies may only touch a few in our immediate families, they matter. Each one of them has changed the world just by being here, even the ones who never took a breathe of air outside the womb.

So we join together, a club of Mamas missing our Little Blessings, to sing praises to our Father who allowed us to carry them wrapped in our love, and gave us the strength to survive giving them back so soon.

We join together to praise through our tears. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; Blessed be the name of the Lord.

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 1: Moving towards Healing

After Mikayla was stillborn, I had been bleeding for almost 2 months, and on bed rest for nearly a month. Add to that insomnia and grief, and I was pretty much zapped of all energy for a while. Even walking up the stairs to our apartment had me winded and weak in the knees.

I was feeling better by summer, but a month of vacation did little to motivate me toward exercise. Then I started a new job - busy, busy. Shortly after which I found out I was pregnant with Selah and first-trimester exhaustion kicked my butt.

Needless to say, it is high time I get back into a good exercise routine! I'm thinking of trying out some yoga, since I had been doing a prenatal yoga I found on YouTube while I was pregnant with Mikayla and found I really enjoyed it.

Anyone have tips for getting/keeping yourself motivated to exercise?

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

Selah - Waiting for us in Heaven

Well, it happened.

The day I feared would come ever since I got a positive pregnancy test.

On Monday, I started bleeding.

At first I tried to write it off as just irritation from a combination of having a yeast infection and having been intimate, but then the clots started coming.

I never had any physical pain. It was over quickly and peacefully, at home. No emergency room visits and cold, hard hospital bed and insensitive doctors. From the time the clots started until it was all over was only about 2 hours. I am grateful for that.

I am also grateful knowing where my baby is - with big sister Mikayla, and our Heavenly Father. I don't know if this baby was a boy or girl as it was too early, only 8 weeks, so I chose the name Selah.

Selah.

A pause. A rest. A time to reflect on what has come before and anticipate what is to come next. A time to praise God for His goodness and faithfulness that endure forever.

Selah. A reminder that God in on His throne.

And so in place of a lingering rainbow I am plunged once more into the midst of the storm, but I know where to look for my lighthouse. I know where the buoy is that will lift me up and keep me from drowning. I know a loving Father who will shelter me under His wings until the storm has passed, and then whisper His tender mercies to me as I huddle in my cave in the after-math until I have found the strength to venture forth again.

Due Date

Today is the day.

August 18, 2014.

They call it the estimated due date because you never know when baby will actually arrive. Big sis JuneBug surprised us 3 weeks before her due date. One of my sisters surprised my mother by waiting almost 3 weeks after her due date! What women expect on their due dates is either to be waddling around with a watermelon belly about to pop, complaining about back pain and swollen ankles, or else shuffling like a zombie snuggling a teeny-weeny wrinkly newborn, changing poopy diapers and feeling like a 24/7 feeding station.

Instead I walk normally, with a (mostly)flat belly, well-rested. My body is not in pain, and on the outside I look just like anyone else.

But on the inside....

I can't help but thinking about what should have been. What could have been. What we are missing out on. I would give anything to trade an aching heart for an aching back and swollen ankles. I would give anything to trade these red-rimmed eyes from crying for red-rimmed eyes from waking every 2 hours to feed a newborn baby.

On this day I dreamed of introducing JuneBug to a new baby sister, instead she is snuggling her "baby sissy bear" (thank you projectbear.com !) and asking when God will send her a "real" sister or brother.

I'm debating between trying to do something special and meaningful today, or just wallowing in my sorrow and shutting the world out for a while.

5 Minute Friday: Messenger

GO:

A messenger. Do I have enough courage to be a messenger? One who might be used to bring messages of hope and healing to others? Will I go out on that limb and put myself out there in order to help others to know they are not alone?

Since Mikayla went to heaven, I have felt the desire to do something for other mothers who will most assuredly walk this horrible path after me. I want to comfort others with the same comfort I have received.

I haven't figured out the best way to go about it, but I do feel like there should be something for our local hospital to give to families to take home when they can't take home their precious babies. I was given nothing, and had to seek out resources on my own. Thankfully I found them, but how wonderful it would be to have been given a packet of them all at once.

I am not typically the organizer or go-getter. I am generally more content to sit in the sidelines and cheer on others, or help behind the scenes. But I feel like there aren't others to cheer or help right now, so maybe I need to be the one to rally some troops, to get the message out that there is a need to be filled. A need for mothers to not leave the hospital full of regrets and empty arms, but rather full of memories and recognition that their precious child lived and mattered and matters still.

A friend posted something on Facebook today about her business looking for causes or charities to raise money for. Maybe if I email her, that can be the beginning of something beautiful and healing for local loss moms. What am I afraid of?

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news. I have a chance to bring a message of hope and compassion to those facing the most difficult days of their lives. So what is holding me back?

STOP.

P.s. I would love to hear some ideas in the comments section of what could be included in some type of packet for parents who experience miscarriage, stillbirth, or newborn loss. I was thinking maybe a teddy bear, baby blanket, brochure of local and on-line grief and loss resources, etc?

An Apple a Day...

...keeps the doctor away.

Nope.

Doesn't work.

I should know.

From about 9 weeks of pregnancy, I ate at least one apple with peanut butter each day. I couldn't get enough apples. I would eat them for a snack every day mid-morning, cook them in oatmeal for breakfast, and eat slices alongside a sandwich for dinner.

And the doctor didn't stay away.

In fact, the doctors (plural) poked me full of holes and hooked me up to various tubes and made my lie in bed for weeks, and yet they still didn't stay away.

Apples.

I don't think I'll ever be able to look at an apple the same way again.

She should have been born in August. Just as the apples are getting ripe. I was going to do a photo shoot of her in an apple-pickin' basket.

Instead she was born in April. When the apple trees are all a'blossom. She was born after her soul flew to heaven. We said good-bye before we got to say hello.

I had a bag of apples rotting in my refrigerator. Yesterday I threw them out.

April Showers of Tears

It's not fair to lose a child in the Spring-time. With the sky so bright and clear and the robins' eggs reflecting as they shelter new life. The green of new leaves on trees coming to life are too much for a heart that is flooded with death and good-bye.

No.

A parent should never have to say good-bye to a child in that way. A mother should never have to experience the death of her daughter before even celebrating her birth. No one should ever have to give birth to death.

Yet if it must happen, it should at least happen in winter, when all the world is bitter cold and ready to snap like the mother's heart. When the bare branches and brown earth and grey sky provide the same monochrome emptiness of the arms that should cradle a tiny pink bundle, and the empty belly that should be growing round and full as the robin's egg, and the empty space in the heart that should be filled with dimpled cheeks and rolls of baby thighs and contented milk sighs. Winter, when the cold grey skies weep along-side the mourners.

Not now.

Not in the very season of new life and pastel Easter happiness. Each pink blossom a slap across the face, and each new-hatched chick a new dagger in the soul.

Five Minute Friday: Mess

I've been lurking on Lisa-Jo Baker's sight for a while now, and today I decided to jump right in and join the 5 minute Friday crowd and start a blog of my own. So here goes:

Mess

I feel like my whole life is mess right now. I am a mess. My emotions are a mess. All of my wonderful plans for the coming years have turned into one big mess.

Financially, I'm a mess. Behind on payments on my student loans, and almost nothing left in my checking account.

Professionally, I'm a mess. My current job is not renewing my contract, and I haven't found a new job yet and am losing hope that I will ever be gainfully employed again.

Emotionally, I am a mess. My daughter Mikayla was born straight to heaven 2 weeks and 5 days ago. I no longer have an answer for "How are you?" I don't even know. I still exist, I think. But I have no idea how I am. Everything is a tangled mess.

My house is a mess. I was on bed rest and in and out of the hospital for the past 2 months, and husbands never really keep things the way they should, but to be honest things weren't the way they should have been even before that because let's face it: I'm lazy. And now my attention span is about 20 seconds on each task and I never finish anything.

My marriage is a mess. My husband and I are both stressed about all the other messes, and instead of putting our shoulders together and cleaning up the steaming piles of messes together, we have been throwing them at each other.

Mess.

Please, God. Rescue me from the mess. Wash my mess in your blood and bring me out the other side with your white robes of holiness. Thank you for loving me when all I have to offer you is my mess.




(Ok, so I cheated a little and took 8 minutes, but I didn't go back to edit anything, just couldn't stop at the 5 minutes because it needed some hope)