After Holden was born, life seemed to be turning around for us. I still struggled with my faith and my fears, but slowly it seemed the waves were calming around us. I still think of Harper everyday. I carry her in my heart with me always, she is just such a part of me. I'm still never sure how to answer the questions when asked how many kids I have. I don't visit the cemetery as often, or look at her scrapbook as much, but she is never far from my thoughts. I'm healing, but I'll never be the same. I'll never look at life the same. I will always hold a glance too long when I see a newborn baby girl, or a curly headed 2 year old.
Sometimes my fears can take hold of my thoughts, and block out what I know to be truth. I know these thoughts and fears are not from the Lord, and this is a major struggle of mine. I feel like I just wait for the next bad thing to happen. It can't stay good for too long. But I was in no way prepared for our next big storm.
Six weeks ago, on the day after her fifth birthday, Emmerson Ruth was diagnosed with Leukemia. Sometimes I still can't believe it. It has been an emotional whirlwind these last six weeks. Losing Harper was the most difficult thing I have ever been through, and I'm not sure I can compare these two situations. I am thankful I never had to see Harper struggle and fight for her life. It kills me to see my little girl in pain. To watch her fight everyday. To see what the chemo is doing to her body. She's five. She should be carefree and happy, going to kindergarten and making new friends. Instead she has had to grow up so much. She lost her baby sister and now she is fighting cancer. It is so unfair.
At first the diagnosis felt like a death sentence. Cancer=death, right? I told my dad that night that I could not bury another one of my babies. I just can't. And as hard as it was to bury Harper, losing Emmerson would be so much harder. I know her, I have memories with her. She is a part of our home, our daily lives...and to not have her here would be more than I could bear.
In the last six weeks I have learned a lot. Medical terminology I could have never made any sense of two months ago seems like plain English today. Emmerson's prognosis is good. She has the most treatable type of childhood cancer, and while the success rate is around 95%, her survival is not a guarantee. But I know God is giving me the peace and strength I need to make it through each day, one day at a time. When I think about the unknowns in the future I feel myself spinning out of control. I have to stay focused on today, what is happening right here, right now.
I hate that this is a part of our lives. I hated being a part of the "stillbirth club" and now I hate being a part of the "cancer club." I don't know what God is doing in our lives, but I know it is my job to use what he has given us for his glory. Sometimes I struggle with being so angry with him for allowing so much pain in such a short amount of time, but then I turn around a beg him to hold me, because I know he is the only one who can heal my little girl. He is the only one who can give me true peace and hope.
If you are interested in following Emmerson's journey I have started a Caring Bridge website. www.caringbridge.org/visit/emmersonfolgate Please keep our family in your prayers as we travel this new journey.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Update, part 1
Its been nearly a year and a half since my last post. I'm not sure if anyone even follows any more, but quite a lot has happened since then.
Shortly after I shared my story at MOPs I found out I was pregnant again. This was pregnancy #7, baby #8. I was scared to death the moment the test came back postive. I had weekly u/s for the first trimester and we heard the heartbeat early on. Everything always looked good, and every week that passed I was able to let out a small breath, but at the same time I found it harder and harder to get attatched to this new little person.
Joel became very sick when I was around 9 weeks pregnant. He ended up being hospitalized for a few weeks with diverticulitis. It was a very difficult time for our family. I was in the nauseaus, tired phase of pregnancy with two energetic kids to take care of. Then dealing with the stress of Joel being in the hospital, and trying to be there for him, while still being there for my kids and the things needing to be done at home, I was mentally, phyiscally, and spiritually exhausted. I was once again dealing with the "why" questions. Why was this happening to our family? When were we ever going to catch a break? I dealt with a lot of anger at that time. Thankfully, Joel is doing well now with very little evidence of having been so very ill.
Things continued to progress smoothly with my pregnancy. I was never able to fully let my guard down. I dreamed about the new baby, and begged and pleaded God would bless us with another healthy, baby girl. At 20 weeks we found out the baby was perfectly healthy, but not a girl as I so desperatly wanted. I couldn't hold back my emotions. I sobbed through most of the ultrasound. And then I felt guilty. I should have been overjoyed that things were going so well with the pregnancy, but instead all I could think of was the baby's gender. Looking back now, I realize how badly I wanted to replace Harper, even though I said that was not the case. I think I was grieving that last little hope I had that somehow I would get her back, that somehow a new baby girl would make that hurt go away.
A few days later we celebrated Harper's first birthday. The actual day was not a difficult as the anticiaption leading up to it. We lit flying lanterns and it was really beautiful. I was coming to terms with the fact that my little girl was really gone, and embracing the new life I was carrying inside of me. In that week I started preparing his nursery, which was something I said I wouldn't do until after the baby was born alive. I started going through Alton's old clothes, and I sold all of my baby girl clothes, even the stuff that I had brand new for Harper. That was a big step for me. I was purging myself of all the "stuff" I held on to, admitting she would never really be here to use it.
Things continued to go smoothly with the pregnancy. I was still scared most days. I tried to give my trust to God, sometimes hourly. It was never easy, and most days I failed miserably. The Tuesday before Thanksgiving I went in for an u/s. I was 36 weeks. I was going to start having weekly u/s to check the cord and such, mostly for my peace of mind. The baby's bladder was very full and he did not pee during the entire u/s. My doctor scheduled me to come back in on Friday to have it rechecked. That Friday no changes were noted and my doctor said it was time to get this pregnancy over with. He knew I was emotionally at my limit, and we had grounds enough to schedule an induction.
The induction process was not as easy as I had hoped, but after 18 hours Holden Everett came out crying. It was such a beautiful experience. We all cried as a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. He was here, healthy and alive. He did have some minor issues with breathing and jaundice, due to being slighltly premature. That first week was so overwhelming trying to get him healthy enough to stay home, but he is a happy, busy 9 month old today. I love him so much and can't imagine him not being a part of our family. I had some low points in the hospital after his birth..reliving Harper's birth, worrying over his health. I was overwhelmed with joy to have him, but at the same time grief was still heavy on my heart for my little girl. It was such a strange mix of emotions I was not prepared to deal with.
There are so many times I will look at Holden and wonder "what if." What if she had lived? He wouldn't be here. But she would. Its almost tormenting at times. I sometimes feel like I have to choose between them. Would I rather have her here, and have missed out on Holden? Or by loving Holden so much am I saying I'm glad things turned out the way they did? Its just so unfair. What I really want is for all of them to be here. I wouldn't trade Holden for the world....I just wish his big sister was here, living life with us.
Shortly after I shared my story at MOPs I found out I was pregnant again. This was pregnancy #7, baby #8. I was scared to death the moment the test came back postive. I had weekly u/s for the first trimester and we heard the heartbeat early on. Everything always looked good, and every week that passed I was able to let out a small breath, but at the same time I found it harder and harder to get attatched to this new little person.
Joel became very sick when I was around 9 weeks pregnant. He ended up being hospitalized for a few weeks with diverticulitis. It was a very difficult time for our family. I was in the nauseaus, tired phase of pregnancy with two energetic kids to take care of. Then dealing with the stress of Joel being in the hospital, and trying to be there for him, while still being there for my kids and the things needing to be done at home, I was mentally, phyiscally, and spiritually exhausted. I was once again dealing with the "why" questions. Why was this happening to our family? When were we ever going to catch a break? I dealt with a lot of anger at that time. Thankfully, Joel is doing well now with very little evidence of having been so very ill.
Things continued to progress smoothly with my pregnancy. I was never able to fully let my guard down. I dreamed about the new baby, and begged and pleaded God would bless us with another healthy, baby girl. At 20 weeks we found out the baby was perfectly healthy, but not a girl as I so desperatly wanted. I couldn't hold back my emotions. I sobbed through most of the ultrasound. And then I felt guilty. I should have been overjoyed that things were going so well with the pregnancy, but instead all I could think of was the baby's gender. Looking back now, I realize how badly I wanted to replace Harper, even though I said that was not the case. I think I was grieving that last little hope I had that somehow I would get her back, that somehow a new baby girl would make that hurt go away.
A few days later we celebrated Harper's first birthday. The actual day was not a difficult as the anticiaption leading up to it. We lit flying lanterns and it was really beautiful. I was coming to terms with the fact that my little girl was really gone, and embracing the new life I was carrying inside of me. In that week I started preparing his nursery, which was something I said I wouldn't do until after the baby was born alive. I started going through Alton's old clothes, and I sold all of my baby girl clothes, even the stuff that I had brand new for Harper. That was a big step for me. I was purging myself of all the "stuff" I held on to, admitting she would never really be here to use it.
Things continued to go smoothly with the pregnancy. I was still scared most days. I tried to give my trust to God, sometimes hourly. It was never easy, and most days I failed miserably. The Tuesday before Thanksgiving I went in for an u/s. I was 36 weeks. I was going to start having weekly u/s to check the cord and such, mostly for my peace of mind. The baby's bladder was very full and he did not pee during the entire u/s. My doctor scheduled me to come back in on Friday to have it rechecked. That Friday no changes were noted and my doctor said it was time to get this pregnancy over with. He knew I was emotionally at my limit, and we had grounds enough to schedule an induction.
The induction process was not as easy as I had hoped, but after 18 hours Holden Everett came out crying. It was such a beautiful experience. We all cried as a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. He was here, healthy and alive. He did have some minor issues with breathing and jaundice, due to being slighltly premature. That first week was so overwhelming trying to get him healthy enough to stay home, but he is a happy, busy 9 month old today. I love him so much and can't imagine him not being a part of our family. I had some low points in the hospital after his birth..reliving Harper's birth, worrying over his health. I was overwhelmed with joy to have him, but at the same time grief was still heavy on my heart for my little girl. It was such a strange mix of emotions I was not prepared to deal with.
There are so many times I will look at Holden and wonder "what if." What if she had lived? He wouldn't be here. But she would. Its almost tormenting at times. I sometimes feel like I have to choose between them. Would I rather have her here, and have missed out on Holden? Or by loving Holden so much am I saying I'm glad things turned out the way they did? Its just so unfair. What I really want is for all of them to be here. I wouldn't trade Holden for the world....I just wish his big sister was here, living life with us.
Friday, March 25, 2011
My story from MOPS
Yesterday I was very blessed to have the opportunity to share my story with a wonderful group of moms at MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers). I was very nervous in the weeks leading up to yesterday, but when I woke up yesterday morning I felt a lot of peace about sharing. I could feel all the prayers that people were saying for me and felt surrounded in God's peace. This is my story as I shared it yesterday:
I found out I was pregnant for the first time in November 2000. I was 19 and unmarried. I had accepted Christ as a young girl, but in my teenage years I became rebellious towards the faith my parents had raised me with. I was excited to be pregnant; my whole life I had wanted nothing more than to be a mommy. I was oblivious to the fact that something could go wrong…I just assumed that when you got pregnant you had a baby. My biggest fear was just telling my parents. My pregnancy was very uneventful until the weekend before I was supposed to have my first OB visit. I was thirteen weeks along when I started spotting. I went to the ER where I had my first ultrasound. The baby was only measuring 6 weeks and there was no heartbeat. I had a D&C that weekend.
I was devastated to say the least. I didn’t know how I was supposed to carry on life as a “normal teenager” after going through such an experience. Someone very close to me told me that the miscarriage was a blessing in disguise and that I was so young and had so much going for me, a baby would have gotten in the way. I tried to seek out God, but in the end I gave into the thoughts that plagued my mind that losing the baby was my punishment for disobeying him. And so I ran away from God.
The next five years my life spiraled out of control as I tried to fill the broken hole I felt in my heart. Nothing ever seemed to fill that hole and my life fell further and further out of control until I hit my rock bottom. During those dark years of my life I always knew God was near. I could always hear him calling me back and when I knew I had nowhere else to go, I surrendered to Him. I found a great group of college aged Christians, got involved in small group, got back in the Bible, and recommitted my life to Christ.
I would like to tell you that the transformation in me happened over night…and in some ways it did. But I still struggled with the demons of my past. Shortly after I recommitted my life I met my husband. After a whirlwind three months we were engaged and three months later I found out I was pregnant again. This time I was ashamed…I felt like such a hypocrite. Not to mention the timing was incredibly inconvenient. We were three months away from our wedding and I still had a semester of school to finish. Despite all this, I was still in love with the tiny life growing inside of me.
Six weeks into the pregnancy I began spotting. I had an u/s that day, and to our surprise we saw not one, but two babies! But we also saw a large blood clot in my uterus. Unfortunately the babies were attached to the clot and unless they were able to attach to a healthy part of my uterus they would not make it. After a few more u/s the doctor confirmed to us that the pregnancy was no longer viable and I had another D&C. With all of the craziness of planning a wedding and finishing school, I didn’t have a lot of time to grieve, although my heart was still broken.
We got married that September as planned and five weeks later I found out I was pregnant a third time. Once again I started spotting around 6 weeks. I was completely beside myself. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing yet another baby, but when we went in for an u/s I saw something I had never seen before…a beating heart. I continued to spot the entire first trimester, but the baby was always doing great and on July 16, 2007 I gave birth to a healthy, beautiful red-headed little girl. I cannot even describe to you the joy that surrounded me that day. God had finally blessed me with the baby I had so desperately longed for.
Six months later we were very surprised to find out we were expecting yet again! The pregnancy was perfect…no spotting, no scares and on October 3, 2008 I gave birth to the most handsome little boy. As I looked at my two precious babies, who were only 14 months apart, I felt so blessed. I felt like I was finally doing things God’s way and he was blessing me in return. But I still had a lot to learn about God’s ways.
When my son was 13 months old my husband and I were ready for another baby. Three weeks later we found out we were pregnant for the fifth time. The pregnancy was normal and at 20 weeks we found out we were having another little girl. The u/s did show one of her kidneys was slightly dilated, which basically means she was not eliminated enough from that kidney. We followed up with u/s for the remainder of the pregnancy…mostly just to monitor the amniotic fluid levels. The doctors were not sure what was going on with her kidney, and they wouldn’t know until she was born. I was told that it could just work itself out after she was born or that the worst case scenario was that she would need surgery to remove the kidney…which wasn’t even that big of a deal because we only need one functioning kidney anyway. I was not thrilled with this news, but in the grand scheme of things that could be wrong with a baby, this did seem fairly minor. I just trusted God to take care of my little girl.
August 9, 2010 was my due date. I went in for my last OB appointment and felt her kick at the Doppler as the doctor listened for her heartbeat. I had no idea this would be the last time I would feel her move or hear her heart beating away. I went home that day and tried to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t dwell on my anxiety over wanting labor to start. I was ready to meet my little girl. After the kids were in bed that night I was able to put my feet up and relax for the first time all day. This was usually the time of day I would feel her move the most, but that night I didn’t feel anything. I drank some orange juice and ate some fruit hoping the sugar would get her moving. But I still didn’t feel anything. I began to push forcefully on my stomach and she still didn’t respond. My husband asked me if we should go to the hospital and I said no. I was tired and wanted to get some sleep in case I went into labor. Really, I was in denial. And of course I couldn’t sleep at all. I started having regular contractions around midnight and around 3 am we left for the hospital. There was none of the excitement, or anticipation I had felt driving to the hospital with the other two. I just felt really sad, but I didn’t quite know why.
When we got to the hospital the nurses hooked me up to the monitors. They couldn’t pick up the baby’s heartbeat. In that moment I knew she was gone. We had to wait a half an hour for the on-call doctor to come in with the u/s machine. It felt like an eternity and as he did the scan he asked a ton of questions about the pregnancy. The screen was turned away from me so I couldn’t see, but he finally said, “I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat.” I covered my eyes and sobbed. A million questions ran through my mind…I had just heard her heartbeat; everything was just fine…do babies really die on their due dates? Then I had another contraction, and the first thing I said out loud was, “So I still have to deliver the baby?” It sounded so stupid coming out of my mouth, but I could not fathom going through labor and delivery. I was scared about what she would look like, or if I would want to hold her. It was all too much to comprehend.
Less than five hours later my sweet Harper Elizabeth was born silently into this world. I remember crying from some unknown place deep inside as my doctor unwrapped the umbilical cord from her neck five times. When my doctor asked if I wanted to hold her I immediately responded YES! My fears about her were gone and I was surprised to see how “normal” she looked. Her lips and fingernails were blue but she was beautiful…a perfect blend of how my other two children had looked as newborns. It was not until her birth that the doctor was able to determine what had caused her death. I will never forget how long and stretched out her cord was. Apparently she had been such an active baby she had gotten her cord all tangled and tied in a knot, but it wasn’t until she dropped before labor that the knot tightened and cut off her blood and oxygen supply. Even with all of the ultrasounds I had during my pregnancy there was no way the doctors were able to see a knot in her cord. This type of stillbirth is called a “cord accident” because there is no way to detect it. There was also no link between the cord and the issue with her kidney. It was very hard for me to accept that there was no one to blame and nothing that could have been done to save her. I hated the thought that she could have been a perfectly healthy baby…if only.
We spent the day holding Harper; we bathed her and dressed her. Our children and parents and my sister were able to hold her. And then we had to let her go. I knew I would never again hold my baby on this earth. That was the most painful moment of the entire day…leaving her at the hospital with an empty belly and empty arms and going to a home that was ready to welcome a beautiful baby girl.
There was a brief moment in the hospital that day that I looked at Harper and vowed I would never allow myself to feel that pain again. But the very next day I felt a consuming desire to have another baby. I’m not sure if it was the hormones, or the confusion my body must have felt going through 9 months of pregnancy and 9 hours of labor and not having a baby in my arms as the end result. Maybe it was just a way to have some hope that better days were ahead. Either way, I knew I wanted another baby as soon as possible.
My doctor said because I went full-term I needed to give my body time to heal, but we could try in 3-6 months. Those three months felt like an eternity, but I am glad we waited that long because I was able to do a lot of grieving. I had no idea how much work grieving is, and how long of a process it can be. Even now, seven months later I am still in the midst of it. I was able to realize that a new baby is not going make things all better, and that there will always be a place in my family that only Harper could hold. Nonetheless, I still desired to have another baby. When we finally hit the three month mark, I started to have some fears if I was really ready and even asked a few of the mentor moms to be praying for us. When I didn’t get pregnant that first month and I was devastated. I had never not gotten pregnant! I had this whole plan that I would get pregnant right away and have a baby by Harper’s first birthday, so when I didn’t get pregnant it was like starting the grieving process all over again. I was so excited when I did get pregnant the following month…I was due exactly one year and one month after Harper’s birthday. So I wouldn’t have a baby by her first birthday, but waiting one extra month didn’t seem too bad. I announced the pregnancy right away and asked everyone I knew to be praying for our new baby. I thought for sure nothing bad would happen this time…we had already been through so much; God would never let anything else go wrong.
But on January 17th I miscarried the baby at home at just over 6 weeks along. I was devastated. Not as much for the loss of the baby, although painful…I was more devastated that God would have allowed this to happen again. I thought I “deserved” a healthy baby and I just couldn’t understand why I had to suffer again, on top of the pain I was still dealing with from losing Harper.
I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t mad at God. I felt abandoned; I questioned what he was thinking. Although being angry with God was a place I didn’t like to be, and a place I didn’t want to stay…I couldn’t avoid that fact that I was hurt that he allowed this type of pain in my life over and over again.
When I look back at my life over the past 10 years, the past 7 months, even the past 2 months I can see how much God has carried me through and how far he has brought me. Through each one of my losses I have learned more about him as he reveals more and more of himself to me. But I realize I was only able to grow in my faith because I made a conscious choice to seek him. Even today, as I struggle with why life isn’t turning out the way I dreamed it would, I still have to make the choice to believe his promises and seek him, when I feel like running away.
Some of the biggest lessons I have learned about God is that he is a loving and caring god. He was not punishing me when I lost my babies. I believe he was crying right along with me and offering to carry me through that pain. I will probably never understand in this lifetime why God did not save Harper, or any of my other babies, but I know in my heart that it was not his intention to have his people suffer. It was only because of sin being introduced in the world that we have all became subject to pain and heartache.
I have also learned that God never wastes your hurts…he can and will use everything for his glory and his purposes. He has created every life for a purpose and even in the midst of my pain I can see how he is using Harper in my life to reach out to others who are dealing with similar losses. As a mother I have no greater joy than to know that my precious daughter, who even in death, is being used by God to fulfill his wonderful plan. Our time together may have been way too short, but her life still has meaning and purpose.
One of the most recent things God has been working on in my heart is releasing the control I think I have over my life. When Nikki and I first talked several months ago about me sharing my story at MOPS I had this vision of standing before you with my pregnant belly telling you all how good and faithful God is. Obviously, that was my vision, and not His. But I am still going to tell you that God is good and faithful, but not because I got my way, or things worked out the way I wanted them to. He is good and faithful because he does love us and because in our weakest moments he is the only one who can offer us true hope and peace and grace to make it through. I may never understand all the “whys” but I choose to put my trust in a God who cannot be put in a box…a God whose ways are higher than my ways. If I could figure out his plan or predict what he was going to do next, he wouldn’t be a very big God…so I have to choose to trust a God much bigger than me, even if it doesn’t always make sense.
Everyday I have to make the choice to believe that his promises in the Bible are truth and cling to them with every ounce of my faith, even on days when that faith seems very small. I hold tight to the promise that his plans for me are good, even if that plan seems very painful right now. And I hold even tighter to his promise of eternity; a place with no more pain, no more suffering, no more tears…a place where I will be reunited with my five precious babies.
One year ago today...
One year ago today we had our first ultrasound and found out we were having another little girl. These are the pictures from that day. Before I even got pregnant with Harper I loved the name. I asked Joel what he thought of the name Harper if we had a girl and he agreed to it. We never even talked about any other names for a girl or boy, so on this same day last year we knew right away that this new little girl would be called Harper. These pictures are very special to me because, even though we have so many beautiful pictures of the day she was born, these pictures are the only pictures of her as a healthy living baby.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Signing off for a bit...
Well, as of some point today, we are no longer going to have home Internet. We just got smart phones and to cut some extra costs we have decided to cancel our Internet. However, this will make it more difficult for me to blog (I'm not sure I can pour my heart out on the world's smallest keyboard using only my thumbs!). But, obviously, I haven't been keeping up with the blog that much lately anyway. I'm not sure why...I suppose I'm just at a different place in my grieving and haven't felt like writing as much.
This may sound incredibly insensitive, or strange to some, but as of late, my desire and struggle to have another baby have replaced my pain of losing Harper. (Please note I did not say "replace Harper" just replacing the "pain of losing Harper"). I guess there was only so much I could do after Harper died. I scrapbooked, blogged, shared her story with whomever would listen. I believe with all my heart that I grieved well...it was a lot of work. And I know that hole in my heart will never go away. I will love her until the day I go to meet her. I will never forget her (how could I?).
But lately I am just soooo ready to move forward. I don't want to live with the constant black cloud hanging over my head. I want to see the sunshine, and feel joy when it's light shines on my face. And for me a big part of moving forward is having another baby. I don't know if or when this baby will be a part of our lives. And that has been another grieving process I have had to go through lately. I had this "master plan" after Harper died that I would get pregnant right away and have a baby by her first birthday. Obviously, that's not going to happen. Right now I don't even think I will have a baby in 2011. As the weeks go by, that "plan" gets further and further from reach. And I am grieving.
Of course by now I should have realized that God's plans are not my plans. I've said it from the beginning, but it seems to not be sinking in. As of right now, the plan is to have another baby...I'm not ready to give up on that dream yet. But I have also realized that a new baby is not going to equal true joy in my life. In this in between time I am working on finding a place where I realize that God is good, and faithful, and loves me, and has good plans for me...whether those plans include another baby or not. And honestly, that "place" is almost impossible to find...but I will keep searching.
So, I'm not sure how often I will be posting here. If I'm ever around a PC I will try to update how things are going and what kind of progress I am making on my walk with God, and our attempts to add to our family. And if I really need to get something off my chest I suppose I will just get a good thumb exercise in!
This may sound incredibly insensitive, or strange to some, but as of late, my desire and struggle to have another baby have replaced my pain of losing Harper. (Please note I did not say "replace Harper" just replacing the "pain of losing Harper"). I guess there was only so much I could do after Harper died. I scrapbooked, blogged, shared her story with whomever would listen. I believe with all my heart that I grieved well...it was a lot of work. And I know that hole in my heart will never go away. I will love her until the day I go to meet her. I will never forget her (how could I?).
But lately I am just soooo ready to move forward. I don't want to live with the constant black cloud hanging over my head. I want to see the sunshine, and feel joy when it's light shines on my face. And for me a big part of moving forward is having another baby. I don't know if or when this baby will be a part of our lives. And that has been another grieving process I have had to go through lately. I had this "master plan" after Harper died that I would get pregnant right away and have a baby by her first birthday. Obviously, that's not going to happen. Right now I don't even think I will have a baby in 2011. As the weeks go by, that "plan" gets further and further from reach. And I am grieving.
Of course by now I should have realized that God's plans are not my plans. I've said it from the beginning, but it seems to not be sinking in. As of right now, the plan is to have another baby...I'm not ready to give up on that dream yet. But I have also realized that a new baby is not going to equal true joy in my life. In this in between time I am working on finding a place where I realize that God is good, and faithful, and loves me, and has good plans for me...whether those plans include another baby or not. And honestly, that "place" is almost impossible to find...but I will keep searching.
So, I'm not sure how often I will be posting here. If I'm ever around a PC I will try to update how things are going and what kind of progress I am making on my walk with God, and our attempts to add to our family. And if I really need to get something off my chest I suppose I will just get a good thumb exercise in!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Six Months
Six months ago today I was oblivious to the fact that my life was about to change forever. Or, I should say, the way it was going to change forever. At some point on August 9th, Harper's spirit left this earth and went to Heaven. And I didn't even know it happened. I was still waiting for contractions to start, anxious to meet my little girl.
The past six months have been full of ups and downs...I feel I've made big strides on this journey called grief. But I'm not where I hoped to be right now...Plan A: Enjoying life with a six month old baby girl in our family. Plan B: Get pregnant as soon as possible and be entering my second trimester. Plan C: ?
I guess its time to just let God do the planning, because my plans aren't working out.
The pain of losing Harper does not consume me like it did in the beginning. I still think about her constantly, but those thoughts aren't in the forefront of my mind. I am able to function and carry on a "normal" life while still carrying her memory with me always. I'm still sad when I think of her, or when I see a pregnant woman or a newborn baby. I'm sad that life isn't turning out the way I thought it would. But I am learning to be okay with it. And that's a big step for me.
The past six months have been full of ups and downs...I feel I've made big strides on this journey called grief. But I'm not where I hoped to be right now...Plan A: Enjoying life with a six month old baby girl in our family. Plan B: Get pregnant as soon as possible and be entering my second trimester. Plan C: ?
I guess its time to just let God do the planning, because my plans aren't working out.
The pain of losing Harper does not consume me like it did in the beginning. I still think about her constantly, but those thoughts aren't in the forefront of my mind. I am able to function and carry on a "normal" life while still carrying her memory with me always. I'm still sad when I think of her, or when I see a pregnant woman or a newborn baby. I'm sad that life isn't turning out the way I thought it would. But I am learning to be okay with it. And that's a big step for me.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
First things first...
I haven't written in awhile. I think about writing all the time, but I guess the old saying, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all," keeps coming to mind. I always wanted this blog to be honoring to God and show what he has been doing in my life through losing Harper. Lately, I just feel so stuck. This last miscarriage has really shaken me up...mostly spiritually.
I want to trust God, I want to trust his plan for my life and trust his timing, but I'm finding that so incredibly hard right now. I really put a lot of hope into a new pregnancy...at times that was the only thing that got me through really tough days was the thought of having a new baby. I thought I would get pregnant right away and have a baby by Harper's first birthday/anniversary. Obviously, that's not going to be the case...and I get so much anxiety when I don't even know when or if we will even have another baby. It's so hard for me to let go of that control, even though I know I don't have any control to begin with.
I just finished reading a book by Pete Wilson called "Plan B." It really called out some major sin on my part. Lately my desire for a baby has become so consuming that I know it is taking God's place in my life. A baby has become an "idol" I have put before my relationship with Christ. But this is where I feel so stuck. I don't know how to make that desire go away and I don't know how to put my trust and hope back where it belongs.
I get so irritated when people tell me to "count my blessings" or to just be thankful for the two kids I have. And rightfully so, I am very blessed to have my kids, but they in no way take away the pain of losing Harper or the miscarriages. But I do know there is some truth to that...I have to get to a place in my life where I am content and if I never have another baby I need to be okay with that. That is so hard for me to say right now, because I still hang on to this hope that there will be another baby, but I also have to face the reality that it may not happen. And I'm going to have to be okay with that. I can't let this ruin my life. And I cannot let it ruin my faith.
Another thing that I read in "Plan B" that really struck me is that during these tough times when we don't think God is around or that He doesn't care...it's not Him that bailed...it's me. He is always here, always present...it's me that's not drawing close to him. I think as Christians (or maybe not all Christians, I'll just speak for myself) we have the preconceived notion that God's got our back and that nothing bad is going to happen to us...which is so not true. Then when something does go wrong we think God has totally forgotten about us. But I know in my heart this is not true. I've worked through this so many times already, but every time I get knocked down I have to start all over again. Who is God? What do I believe? What do I know to be true? I even went back and reread some of my earlier posts click here to read and I still believe that. I'm just not sure why I have to start all over again every time things don't go my way.
So, I suppose the reality I'm faced with here is that I have a choice to make...keep going down the path I'm on, trying to make sense of life on my own...or surrender it all to Him, trusting that He knows what He's doing.
I want to trust God, I want to trust his plan for my life and trust his timing, but I'm finding that so incredibly hard right now. I really put a lot of hope into a new pregnancy...at times that was the only thing that got me through really tough days was the thought of having a new baby. I thought I would get pregnant right away and have a baby by Harper's first birthday/anniversary. Obviously, that's not going to be the case...and I get so much anxiety when I don't even know when or if we will even have another baby. It's so hard for me to let go of that control, even though I know I don't have any control to begin with.
I just finished reading a book by Pete Wilson called "Plan B." It really called out some major sin on my part. Lately my desire for a baby has become so consuming that I know it is taking God's place in my life. A baby has become an "idol" I have put before my relationship with Christ. But this is where I feel so stuck. I don't know how to make that desire go away and I don't know how to put my trust and hope back where it belongs.
I get so irritated when people tell me to "count my blessings" or to just be thankful for the two kids I have. And rightfully so, I am very blessed to have my kids, but they in no way take away the pain of losing Harper or the miscarriages. But I do know there is some truth to that...I have to get to a place in my life where I am content and if I never have another baby I need to be okay with that. That is so hard for me to say right now, because I still hang on to this hope that there will be another baby, but I also have to face the reality that it may not happen. And I'm going to have to be okay with that. I can't let this ruin my life. And I cannot let it ruin my faith.
Another thing that I read in "Plan B" that really struck me is that during these tough times when we don't think God is around or that He doesn't care...it's not Him that bailed...it's me. He is always here, always present...it's me that's not drawing close to him. I think as Christians (or maybe not all Christians, I'll just speak for myself) we have the preconceived notion that God's got our back and that nothing bad is going to happen to us...which is so not true. Then when something does go wrong we think God has totally forgotten about us. But I know in my heart this is not true. I've worked through this so many times already, but every time I get knocked down I have to start all over again. Who is God? What do I believe? What do I know to be true? I even went back and reread some of my earlier posts click here to read and I still believe that. I'm just not sure why I have to start all over again every time things don't go my way.
So, I suppose the reality I'm faced with here is that I have a choice to make...keep going down the path I'm on, trying to make sense of life on my own...or surrender it all to Him, trusting that He knows what He's doing.
Deut. 4:28-31: There, in a foreign land, you will worship idols made from wood and stone—gods that neither see nor hear nor eat nor smell. But from there you will search again for the Lord your God. And if you search for him with all your heart and soul, you will find him. “In the distant future, when you are suffering all these things, you will finally return to the Lord your God and listen to what he tells you. For the Lord your God is a merciful God; he will not abandon you or destroy you or forget the solemn covenant he made with your ancestors.Baby girl, it's such a crazy world without you. I'm trying to do what God wants me to do...and sometimes I fail miserably. I wish everyday that you were still here and I didn't have to live with this pain. I hope that someday I will look back on this time in my life and see how God was using you to shape me into the woman he wants me to become. I miss you and love you so much.
Matt. 6:33-34: Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need. “So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Try, try again
When the world says, "Give up," hope whispers, "Try...one more time."
"I know how you feel.
Different Child
A different child, people notice
There's a special glow around you.
You grow surrounded by love
Never doubting you are wanted;
Only look at the pride and joy
In your mother and father's eyes.
And if sometimes between the smiles
There's a trace of tears,
One day you'll understand.
You'll understand there was once another child.
A different child.
Who was in their hopes and dreams.
That child will never outgrow the baby clothes.
That child will never keep them up at night.
In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all...
Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much
That different child.
May hope and love wrap you warmly
And may you learn the lesson forever:
How infinitely precious,
How infinitely fragile is this life on earth.
One day, as a young man or woman
You may see another mother's tears
Another father's silent grief
Then you, and you alone will understand
And offer the greatest comfort.
When all hope seems lost
you will tell them with great compassion:
There's a special glow around you.
You grow surrounded by love
Never doubting you are wanted;
Only look at the pride and joy
In your mother and father's eyes.
And if sometimes between the smiles
There's a trace of tears,
One day you'll understand.
You'll understand there was once another child.
A different child.
Who was in their hopes and dreams.
That child will never outgrow the baby clothes.
That child will never keep them up at night.
In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all...
Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much
That different child.
May hope and love wrap you warmly
And may you learn the lesson forever:
How infinitely precious,
How infinitely fragile is this life on earth.
One day, as a young man or woman
You may see another mother's tears
Another father's silent grief
Then you, and you alone will understand
And offer the greatest comfort.
When all hope seems lost
you will tell them with great compassion:
"I know how you feel.
I'm only here because my parents tried again."
Thursday, January 20, 2011
My Faith
I've had another day to process my feelings and sort through my emotions. I know my post from yesterday may have seemed like I was blasting God, but that was not my intention. I was angry with God, and while I find that incredibly scary, it was the way I was feeling. Today some of that anger has subsided and I've had a better chance to examine my heart. I'm doing better than I thought I would be. I don't know if its just that I've become hardened to this type of loss...like this has already happened three times so...whatever. It stinks, but that's nothing new.
I got the final results from the blood work today and the pregnancy hormone is almost completely out of my system so that is good. Unlike my other miscarriages, this was the first time I was able to pass the baby naturally and it was so much better than having a D&C. The less invasive the better. Physically I feel really good.
I do not regret my decision to announce the pregnancy so early. Although it was hard to tell every one that I lost the baby, I know it would have been even harder to go through this with no support. I wanted this baby's life to be recognized and celebrated. Even though we only knew about this baby for 12 days I know he or she was loved and prayed for every one of those twelve days. That's a good feeling.
I would have to say that the hardest part about this miscarriage has been the blow it has been spiritually. More shocking than the fact of losing the baby was the fact that God allowed this to happen. I really thought He was going to wrap us in this protective bubble and give us a healthy baby. I thought that was what I "deserved" after what I have already been through. But God has never promised to give me what I deserve. Because what I really deserve is a life separated from Him because of my sin.
I know in my last post I eluded that God was the one causing this pain, but I know that is not the truth. I know we live in sinful world and that bad stuff happens to people all the time, regardless of how much they love God or how strong their faith is. But what I just can't wrap my head around is why He continues to ALLOW this to happen to me. He is the only one who has the power to change the outcome, but he chooses not to. And that is why I feel abandoned by him. Right now, in my mind, there doesn't seem to be much difference between CAUSE and ALLOW.
For those of you who may be concerned about my faith right now, please know that I am NOT giving up. I'm praying more than usual...even though those prayers may be angry prayers, I'm still praying. And nothing fazes God. He knows. And I believe right now he's meeting me right where I'm at. I'm making a conscious choice to hold on to my faith and what I know in my heart to be true...even if I can't feel it right now. I know my faith will be restored. I know in the end God's the one that's going to get all the glory. Right now I'm just hanging on by a thread, and believing that this will pass.
I got the final results from the blood work today and the pregnancy hormone is almost completely out of my system so that is good. Unlike my other miscarriages, this was the first time I was able to pass the baby naturally and it was so much better than having a D&C. The less invasive the better. Physically I feel really good.
I do not regret my decision to announce the pregnancy so early. Although it was hard to tell every one that I lost the baby, I know it would have been even harder to go through this with no support. I wanted this baby's life to be recognized and celebrated. Even though we only knew about this baby for 12 days I know he or she was loved and prayed for every one of those twelve days. That's a good feeling.
I would have to say that the hardest part about this miscarriage has been the blow it has been spiritually. More shocking than the fact of losing the baby was the fact that God allowed this to happen. I really thought He was going to wrap us in this protective bubble and give us a healthy baby. I thought that was what I "deserved" after what I have already been through. But God has never promised to give me what I deserve. Because what I really deserve is a life separated from Him because of my sin.
I know in my last post I eluded that God was the one causing this pain, but I know that is not the truth. I know we live in sinful world and that bad stuff happens to people all the time, regardless of how much they love God or how strong their faith is. But what I just can't wrap my head around is why He continues to ALLOW this to happen to me. He is the only one who has the power to change the outcome, but he chooses not to. And that is why I feel abandoned by him. Right now, in my mind, there doesn't seem to be much difference between CAUSE and ALLOW.
For those of you who may be concerned about my faith right now, please know that I am NOT giving up. I'm praying more than usual...even though those prayers may be angry prayers, I'm still praying. And nothing fazes God. He knows. And I believe right now he's meeting me right where I'm at. I'm making a conscious choice to hold on to my faith and what I know in my heart to be true...even if I can't feel it right now. I know my faith will be restored. I know in the end God's the one that's going to get all the glory. Right now I'm just hanging on by a thread, and believing that this will pass.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Just like that its over...
I'm dreading writing this post, partly because of the emotional state I'm in right now, and partly because of the bad news I have to share. I've been told numerous times that people appreciate my honesty and transparency in my blogging...and so I will write this from my heart regardless of the condition of my heart at this moment.
Late Monday afternoon I noticed some light spotting when I went to the bathroom. I tried to stay calm reminding myself that I spotted the whole first trimester with Emmerson and everything turned out fine. I tried to get through to the clinic with no luck. Finally about quarter to five I was finally able to reach a nurse but because of the weather all of the doctors were home already. She told me to call back in the morning or go to the ER if my symptoms got worse. And my symptoms did become much worse. I called into the ER and was advised to stay home due to the weather because this was not a "medical emergency." At this point in the pregnancy there is nothing that can be done to save the baby. Tuesday morning I was able to get an appointment set for 10:30 in the morning for an ultrasound. The ultrasound showed nothing but an empty uterus. My doctor tried to be optimistic with us and said that we could be wrong about the dates and ordered some lab work to see where my pregnancy hormone levels were. I didn't hang on to that bit of optimism because in my heart I already knew we had lost the baby. Just a few minutes ago I got a phone call from the clinic to let me know that my levels were at a 9. At 6 and a half weeks they should be in the hundred thousands so it's safe to say that the pregnancy is done. I'm supposed to go back tomorrow to make sure the levels go down to zero to make sure there is no retaining tissue.
So just like that its over. I can't even begin to sort through the emotions I am experiencing right now. Mostly I am just angry. I guess I thought somehow God was going to protect us and give us a healthy baby this time. I feel like I've been through so much loss already...when is it going to be enough. When do I get my happy ending? I cannot understand why God would create me in such a way that the only thing I have ever been sure of is that I wanted to be a mother. I know that he has blessed me with two healthy beautiful children and that I am a mother...but this road has been so hard.
Losing my first two pregnancies shook me up pretty bad. I was never privileged enough to be blissfully unaware that something could go wrong in a pregnancy. Then I had two healthy babies back to back and thought that pain was a thing of the past. But now here I am again....its not even been six months since we buried Harper and I'm dealing with another loss. I cannot even begin to understand what God has planned for my life. Right now I have to make a conscious choice to believe that he has good things planned for my life but my heart doesn't believe it. I feel abandoned. Where is he in all of this?
When I announced this pregnancy not even two weeks ago so many comments filled my facebook page about how awesome and good God is. But now? How do you continue to give God the glory when life continues to take you down rocky paths? I'm just so hurt and confused right now. I don't want to turn my back on God but I know my faith has been battered and bruised and its going to take a long time to heal.
It feels as though when Harper died our whole world began to crumble in front of us. We have been struggling financially. At church they always make such a strong stand that if you are faithful to return your tithe that God will bless you, but we have not received any of those blessings. The income keeps getting smaller and the bills keep getting bigger. And now this miscarriage on top of still grieving Harper. Its more than I can bear. All of my hopes and dreams are being shattered in front of my very eyes.
I'm so afraid that there is something wrong with me and I will continue to suffer these losses. My doctor says because I have two healthy children there is no reason to think I can't have another, but how much pain can one person go through before they become a hollow shell of the person they once were? Three miscarriages and one stillbirth...five babies total...how much more can I really go through? I'm going to be 30 in a few months and feel that time is working against me a this point. I've always wanted four kids and that dream is getting farther and farther from my reach.
I don't have any positive note to end this post on. I'm hoping that I will be healed physically, emotionally and spiritually. I hope I can learn how to trust God once again and find comfort in Him once again. Any other relationship with someone that would continually cause me hurt and pain I would walk away from, but I know I can't walk away from God. I know that my eternal reward will erase all of this pain I feel right now. I know if I never get to have a big family here on Earth, I've got five precious babies waiting for me in Heaven...and I'm hanging on to that little glimpse of eternity until my faith can once again be restored.
Late Monday afternoon I noticed some light spotting when I went to the bathroom. I tried to stay calm reminding myself that I spotted the whole first trimester with Emmerson and everything turned out fine. I tried to get through to the clinic with no luck. Finally about quarter to five I was finally able to reach a nurse but because of the weather all of the doctors were home already. She told me to call back in the morning or go to the ER if my symptoms got worse. And my symptoms did become much worse. I called into the ER and was advised to stay home due to the weather because this was not a "medical emergency." At this point in the pregnancy there is nothing that can be done to save the baby. Tuesday morning I was able to get an appointment set for 10:30 in the morning for an ultrasound. The ultrasound showed nothing but an empty uterus. My doctor tried to be optimistic with us and said that we could be wrong about the dates and ordered some lab work to see where my pregnancy hormone levels were. I didn't hang on to that bit of optimism because in my heart I already knew we had lost the baby. Just a few minutes ago I got a phone call from the clinic to let me know that my levels were at a 9. At 6 and a half weeks they should be in the hundred thousands so it's safe to say that the pregnancy is done. I'm supposed to go back tomorrow to make sure the levels go down to zero to make sure there is no retaining tissue.
So just like that its over. I can't even begin to sort through the emotions I am experiencing right now. Mostly I am just angry. I guess I thought somehow God was going to protect us and give us a healthy baby this time. I feel like I've been through so much loss already...when is it going to be enough. When do I get my happy ending? I cannot understand why God would create me in such a way that the only thing I have ever been sure of is that I wanted to be a mother. I know that he has blessed me with two healthy beautiful children and that I am a mother...but this road has been so hard.
Losing my first two pregnancies shook me up pretty bad. I was never privileged enough to be blissfully unaware that something could go wrong in a pregnancy. Then I had two healthy babies back to back and thought that pain was a thing of the past. But now here I am again....its not even been six months since we buried Harper and I'm dealing with another loss. I cannot even begin to understand what God has planned for my life. Right now I have to make a conscious choice to believe that he has good things planned for my life but my heart doesn't believe it. I feel abandoned. Where is he in all of this?
When I announced this pregnancy not even two weeks ago so many comments filled my facebook page about how awesome and good God is. But now? How do you continue to give God the glory when life continues to take you down rocky paths? I'm just so hurt and confused right now. I don't want to turn my back on God but I know my faith has been battered and bruised and its going to take a long time to heal.
It feels as though when Harper died our whole world began to crumble in front of us. We have been struggling financially. At church they always make such a strong stand that if you are faithful to return your tithe that God will bless you, but we have not received any of those blessings. The income keeps getting smaller and the bills keep getting bigger. And now this miscarriage on top of still grieving Harper. Its more than I can bear. All of my hopes and dreams are being shattered in front of my very eyes.
I'm so afraid that there is something wrong with me and I will continue to suffer these losses. My doctor says because I have two healthy children there is no reason to think I can't have another, but how much pain can one person go through before they become a hollow shell of the person they once were? Three miscarriages and one stillbirth...five babies total...how much more can I really go through? I'm going to be 30 in a few months and feel that time is working against me a this point. I've always wanted four kids and that dream is getting farther and farther from my reach.
I don't have any positive note to end this post on. I'm hoping that I will be healed physically, emotionally and spiritually. I hope I can learn how to trust God once again and find comfort in Him once again. Any other relationship with someone that would continually cause me hurt and pain I would walk away from, but I know I can't walk away from God. I know that my eternal reward will erase all of this pain I feel right now. I know if I never get to have a big family here on Earth, I've got five precious babies waiting for me in Heaven...and I'm hanging on to that little glimpse of eternity until my faith can once again be restored.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Some thoughts on pregnancy after loss...
Here we are, a week into knowing about this pregnancy. So far it has been great. I haven't "freaked" out yet or wondered if we made a huge mistake. I'm just so excited. I have been so blessed with such wonderful support...people genuinely are happy for us and praying for a healthy baby. That means so much to me.
I know that for the most part people have been incredibly supportive, but there are still people out there that think we are crazy. Maybe they think its too soon, or maybe that we are setting ourselves up to be hurt again, or maybe we should have taken losing Harper as a sign that we weren't meant to have any more kids...or maybe that it isn't fair to Harper to be moving forward so quickly.
All I have to say to that is I love Harper with my whole heart. I still grieve her. Like I said in my last post, a new baby is not going to make things "all better" or take her place. But I don't know why that would mean that we don't deserve another chance at building our family. Are we just supposed to take the hand we have been given and not try again for better days? I personally don't think that is how God wants us to live. He has good plans for us and wants us to experience life in abundance...There is no reason to think that we can't or won't have another healthy baby.
I know that Harper is whole and perfect in Heaven. She is receiving all the love she could ever need in the presence of our Savior. I do not feel guilty for wanting another child. And I know she does not have the capabilities to feel unloved, or replaced. I believe she is so happy for us right now. She does not want us to live our lives in pain, or fear. And I refuse to live my life in fear. I don't know what the outcome of this pregnancy will be. I am praying for the best and taking it one day at a time. But I do believe that God has good things in store for us.
I think that women who go through the types of loss I have been through are some of the strongest, bravest women I know. They know pain and adversity and are still willing to put their whole hearts on the line to get what they really want...a healthy baby. There are two types of women in my support group...those who have gone on to have a healthy baby or babies and those who are desperately trying to reach that goal. No one has said, "Well my baby died so I'm just going to give up." No one. We all would give anything to have our babies back and to not have gone through the pain we have been through...but it doesn't stop us from trying to reach that goal. Last November Joel and I decided we were ready for another baby and we thought we were going to have that baby, but things didn't work out that way. But that longing and desire for a baby do not just go away. We still want a baby.
I am still so sad when I think about the little girl that would be five months old now. I think about how differently my life could be right now. But I also know that I cannot hang on to the past...what could have been. I will love Harper every day for the rest of my life. I will never forget her. But right now I am looking towards the future and its a wonderful place to be.
I know that for the most part people have been incredibly supportive, but there are still people out there that think we are crazy. Maybe they think its too soon, or maybe that we are setting ourselves up to be hurt again, or maybe we should have taken losing Harper as a sign that we weren't meant to have any more kids...or maybe that it isn't fair to Harper to be moving forward so quickly.
All I have to say to that is I love Harper with my whole heart. I still grieve her. Like I said in my last post, a new baby is not going to make things "all better" or take her place. But I don't know why that would mean that we don't deserve another chance at building our family. Are we just supposed to take the hand we have been given and not try again for better days? I personally don't think that is how God wants us to live. He has good plans for us and wants us to experience life in abundance...There is no reason to think that we can't or won't have another healthy baby.
I know that Harper is whole and perfect in Heaven. She is receiving all the love she could ever need in the presence of our Savior. I do not feel guilty for wanting another child. And I know she does not have the capabilities to feel unloved, or replaced. I believe she is so happy for us right now. She does not want us to live our lives in pain, or fear. And I refuse to live my life in fear. I don't know what the outcome of this pregnancy will be. I am praying for the best and taking it one day at a time. But I do believe that God has good things in store for us.
I think that women who go through the types of loss I have been through are some of the strongest, bravest women I know. They know pain and adversity and are still willing to put their whole hearts on the line to get what they really want...a healthy baby. There are two types of women in my support group...those who have gone on to have a healthy baby or babies and those who are desperately trying to reach that goal. No one has said, "Well my baby died so I'm just going to give up." No one. We all would give anything to have our babies back and to not have gone through the pain we have been through...but it doesn't stop us from trying to reach that goal. Last November Joel and I decided we were ready for another baby and we thought we were going to have that baby, but things didn't work out that way. But that longing and desire for a baby do not just go away. We still want a baby.
I am still so sad when I think about the little girl that would be five months old now. I think about how differently my life could be right now. But I also know that I cannot hang on to the past...what could have been. I will love Harper every day for the rest of my life. I will never forget her. But right now I am looking towards the future and its a wonderful place to be.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
It's a New Day
I suppose it's only fitting that my first post of the New Year should be entitled "It's a New Day." Just this morning I found out that we are expecting again! I know...I'm not even 5 weeks along yet but I am so excited I just could not wait to share the news. My estimated due date is September 10, 2011...exactly 13 months after Harper's birthday. (Another interesting tidbit about this due date...it's 9.10.11, but what's even more interesting is that Harper's due date was 8.9.10...totally irrelevant, but interesting nonetheless.)
Tomorrow marks the 10th anniversary of my first miscarriage. My journey to motherhood has been painful and joyous. I am full of hope in this new life growing inside of me. I know this will not be an easy road ahead, but it will definitely be an opportunity for further growth in my relationship with Christ. Really, this will be a true test of my faith. Do I really trust God with this new little life I have been blessed with?
I know some may be shocked to hear this news, it hasn't even been five months yet, and I understand that. I read somewhere once that you knew you were ready to try for another baby when your desire for a baby outweighed your fears. For me that day was August 11. There was a moment in the hospital that I looked at Harper and vowed I would never let myself feel that pain again...however that was very short lived. The next day I felt an overwhelming desire to try again as soon as possible. The doctor gave us the go ahead at three months. It didn't happen that month and that was devastating to me. To wait three months to even try felt like an eternity but then when it didn't happen that first month was very difficult. I am so thankful that it happened this month though. I do feel very blessed that getting pregnant has never been an issue for me (this is my fifth pregnancy in less than five years). However, bringing those babies home has proven to be a bigger challenge.
I want you all to know that this baby is in no way going to be a replacement of Harper. No child could ever take the place of another. Just as Emmerson and Alton do not replace Harper, a new baby would or could never replace her. My family will always be incomplete. Even if I have a dozen more kids not a single one could replace her. She will always be missing from my family. But I am excited at the prospect of new life, new hope. Some online forums refer to a pregnancy after loss as a "rainbow baby." I never understood why until I saw the definition...A rainbow appears before the storm has cleared as a sign that the sun will appear again. This baby isn't going to make things "all better." I still grieve my little girl...but I do see a rainbow in the clearing.
Besides my excitement, I wanted to share this news already for a couple other reasons. First, so that you will join me in prayer. And secondly, because I believe every life deserves to be recognized and celebrated. After my first miscarriage I said I would never tell people I was pregnant again until after the first trimester. It was like I felt embarrassed that I had to tell people I lost that baby. So with the next pregnancy I told very few people, mostly just immediate family. And when I lost the twins it was a very lonely place to be. Because so few people knew I didn't feel that I had a lot of support. Losing a baby is not something to be ashamed of...it is not something to be kept quiet. That is such an old-school way of thinking and so after that I shared the news of my next pregnancies right away. And as I've learned now, there is no "safe" time to share the news. If you make it past the first trimester or hear the baby's heartbeat...it doesn't guarantee a thing. I heard Harper's heartbeat on her due date and she died later that day.
I guess my point is this...Every life is worthy of recognition and deserves to be celebrated. So whether this baby lives 9 weeks, 9 months or 90 years it is still a baby...a human life...a wonderful creation of our Heavenly Father.
Tomorrow marks the 10th anniversary of my first miscarriage. My journey to motherhood has been painful and joyous. I am full of hope in this new life growing inside of me. I know this will not be an easy road ahead, but it will definitely be an opportunity for further growth in my relationship with Christ. Really, this will be a true test of my faith. Do I really trust God with this new little life I have been blessed with?
I know some may be shocked to hear this news, it hasn't even been five months yet, and I understand that. I read somewhere once that you knew you were ready to try for another baby when your desire for a baby outweighed your fears. For me that day was August 11. There was a moment in the hospital that I looked at Harper and vowed I would never let myself feel that pain again...however that was very short lived. The next day I felt an overwhelming desire to try again as soon as possible. The doctor gave us the go ahead at three months. It didn't happen that month and that was devastating to me. To wait three months to even try felt like an eternity but then when it didn't happen that first month was very difficult. I am so thankful that it happened this month though. I do feel very blessed that getting pregnant has never been an issue for me (this is my fifth pregnancy in less than five years). However, bringing those babies home has proven to be a bigger challenge.
I want you all to know that this baby is in no way going to be a replacement of Harper. No child could ever take the place of another. Just as Emmerson and Alton do not replace Harper, a new baby would or could never replace her. My family will always be incomplete. Even if I have a dozen more kids not a single one could replace her. She will always be missing from my family. But I am excited at the prospect of new life, new hope. Some online forums refer to a pregnancy after loss as a "rainbow baby." I never understood why until I saw the definition...A rainbow appears before the storm has cleared as a sign that the sun will appear again. This baby isn't going to make things "all better." I still grieve my little girl...but I do see a rainbow in the clearing.
Besides my excitement, I wanted to share this news already for a couple other reasons. First, so that you will join me in prayer. And secondly, because I believe every life deserves to be recognized and celebrated. After my first miscarriage I said I would never tell people I was pregnant again until after the first trimester. It was like I felt embarrassed that I had to tell people I lost that baby. So with the next pregnancy I told very few people, mostly just immediate family. And when I lost the twins it was a very lonely place to be. Because so few people knew I didn't feel that I had a lot of support. Losing a baby is not something to be ashamed of...it is not something to be kept quiet. That is such an old-school way of thinking and so after that I shared the news of my next pregnancies right away. And as I've learned now, there is no "safe" time to share the news. If you make it past the first trimester or hear the baby's heartbeat...it doesn't guarantee a thing. I heard Harper's heartbeat on her due date and she died later that day.
I guess my point is this...Every life is worthy of recognition and deserves to be celebrated. So whether this baby lives 9 weeks, 9 months or 90 years it is still a baby...a human life...a wonderful creation of our Heavenly Father.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
It's happened again...
Well, someone who was a few years younger than me in high school just lost twin boys last night. It is just unbelievable how many people have to experience this pain. I still don't know if I'm just more aware of it, or if it really is happening more. This makes a grand total of five babies that have been stillborn (past 20 weeks) just in Monroe since we lost Harper. I've also heard about two babies lost to SIDS, and a few miscarriages. And its not even been five months....
I feel like more people I know are losing their babies than having living babies. I just can't make sense of it. Every time I hear of a loss I just lose the ability to function. I walk around in a fog, feeling like I got punched in the gut. I'm sure I will toss and turn all night. It has consumed my thoughts all day. I hurt for those new families hurting for the first time, and I hurt for me all over again.
I know that these babies are bringing more awareness to pregnancy loss. It happens and it happens a lot. No one is immune. I read somewhere once that stillbirth does not discriminate. It doesn't care what race, religion or ethnicity you are. It doesn't care how long you tried to get pregnant or how badly you wanted a baby. It doesn't care how many weeks you put into taking care of your unborn baby. It doesn't care how nicely your nursery is decorated or that the car seat is already installed in the car or that the bottles are already sterilized and in the cupboard. Stillbirth doesn't care about your plans, hopes, and dreams. It can happen to anyone.
And no one ever expects it to happen to them. That is something that has bothered me from the beginning...I felt that people looked at me like somehow I knew I was going to lose Harper. And that others assume its not going to happen to them. Just because you pee on a stick and see a plus sign does not mean you are going to bring home a baby in 9 months. Just because you feel kicks and hear your baby's heartbeat does not mean you are going to bring home a baby. Just because you make it past 12 weeks, or 25 weeks, or 40 weeks does not mean you are going to bring home a baby. I wish all pregnant women knew this. Not so they would live in fear, but so they could be aware that this is something that happens and it can happen to anyone at any point in a seemingly healthy pregnancy.
I hope that all of these precious babies not only bring awareness to other expectant parents but also to the medical community. There has got to be a way to reduce these numbers. I don't know how and I know modern medicine still has it's limitations...I just wish there was a way that more could be done to prevent stillbirth. I wish there was a way to prevent so many people from experiencing a pain no words can describe...
I feel like more people I know are losing their babies than having living babies. I just can't make sense of it. Every time I hear of a loss I just lose the ability to function. I walk around in a fog, feeling like I got punched in the gut. I'm sure I will toss and turn all night. It has consumed my thoughts all day. I hurt for those new families hurting for the first time, and I hurt for me all over again.
I know that these babies are bringing more awareness to pregnancy loss. It happens and it happens a lot. No one is immune. I read somewhere once that stillbirth does not discriminate. It doesn't care what race, religion or ethnicity you are. It doesn't care how long you tried to get pregnant or how badly you wanted a baby. It doesn't care how many weeks you put into taking care of your unborn baby. It doesn't care how nicely your nursery is decorated or that the car seat is already installed in the car or that the bottles are already sterilized and in the cupboard. Stillbirth doesn't care about your plans, hopes, and dreams. It can happen to anyone.
And no one ever expects it to happen to them. That is something that has bothered me from the beginning...I felt that people looked at me like somehow I knew I was going to lose Harper. And that others assume its not going to happen to them. Just because you pee on a stick and see a plus sign does not mean you are going to bring home a baby in 9 months. Just because you feel kicks and hear your baby's heartbeat does not mean you are going to bring home a baby. Just because you make it past 12 weeks, or 25 weeks, or 40 weeks does not mean you are going to bring home a baby. I wish all pregnant women knew this. Not so they would live in fear, but so they could be aware that this is something that happens and it can happen to anyone at any point in a seemingly healthy pregnancy.
I hope that all of these precious babies not only bring awareness to other expectant parents but also to the medical community. There has got to be a way to reduce these numbers. I don't know how and I know modern medicine still has it's limitations...I just wish there was a way that more could be done to prevent stillbirth. I wish there was a way to prevent so many people from experiencing a pain no words can describe...
Friday, December 24, 2010
Progress
I wanted to really make a note of the progress that I have made. That was my original intention with the previous post. But then before I got the chance to rethink my journey thus far, I slipped back a bit.
Here goes...
Initially I felt numb. It's hard to describe that state of fogginess. I understood what was happening, but I did not believe it was actually happening to me. There were many moments during that day that I almost felt like I was watching the scenes from a movie. Maybe it was the drugs they were giving me to help with the labor pains, but maybe it was just a coping mechanism. I felt very removed from the situation.
Once I saw her I felt overwhelming sadness mixed in with the numb fogginess. I cried more than I thought possible. I didn't know what to do or how to feel. Part of me just wanted to run away, part of me wanted to freeze time so I would never have to let her go. I didn't know what to expect...I was scared of what she would look like...I didn't know if I wanted to hold her. I was very guarded with my heart at first, but I was already so head-over-heals in love with her there was no real way to protect myself .
The next emotion I felt was brokenness. They exact moment I had to lay her in her bassinet and walk away felt like she was being ripped from my arms. Tears are welling in my eyes as I write this because that was the most painful moment of all. I was the one who laid her down, but it felt like she was being forced out of my arms. That was the last time I held her. My heart broke in that moment. And then I had to leave the Family Birth Center. Without a baby. That's just not natural.
The emotion following was aggravation/annoyance. The nurse was trying to make small talk with me as we waited for Joel to pull up with the van. She mentioned something about the weather and blah, blah, blah. SHUT UP! DO YOU REALIZE THAT MY BABY JUST DIED AND I AM GOING HOME EMPTY HANDED. I DO NOT CARE ABOUT THE WEATHER! This is what my heart is screaming, but instead I just nod my head and will Joel to pull up. I did not realize how often I would continue to have this feeling; even with the most well-meaning people.
That night I was relieved to be home. Things somehow felt normal there. It was me and my husband and my kids...just like the night before, and the night before that, and the night before that. She was never really part of our daily routines...it wasn't the whole "some one's missing at the dinner table" thing. Denial set in. I honestly thought I might wake up the next morning and feel normal. Like it was all a bad dream, or just a bad day. But the next morning felt anything but normal. It was all so surreal. Going to the funeral home to make arrangements when I should have still been at the hospital getting to know my new baby. The next few days went on like that. Just feeling so much like, "This is not really happening to me." I was thankful for the business of planning funeral stuff though. It kept my mind occupied.
After the memorial service was over I panicked. Now what? What am I going to do now? How am I going to get through the next day? It was all over. We had buried her body and celebrated her short life. Was I now supposed to carry on a normal life? It was so overwhelming. Joel was off work for another week and we tried to keep life as normal as possible for the kids. We took a trip to the zoo and that was the first time I was confronted with my emotions when seeing newborn babies and pregnant women. I felt like they were everywhere. I saw a woman pick a tiny baby up out of a stroller. Her legs were still curled in like she was still not used to life outside of her mother's womb. My heart sank. Then I saw another women sitting on a bench nursing her newborn baby. Was this not supposed to be me right now? What happened? How did things go so wrong? I did not want to be envious of women with babies...and that has proven to be a hard bridge to cross.
After Joel went back to work it was back to reality for me too. I still had to take care of my two living children. I felt as if I was going through the motions. At first my children were my only source of joy, but by the time Joel went back to work I began getting frustrated with them. The guilt set in big time. I wanted to work on Harper's scrapbook and I would snap at them when they were demanding things from me. I just wanted them to leave me alone. It hurts so much to bring back these feelings. I still loved my kids, but I needed time to grieve. I did not know how to keep being a mom when I was hurting so much. There were so many nights that I would tuck them in and I would look at them and think "What have I even done with you today? Did I even talk to you or read to you?" And then I would lay in my bed and cry. The internal tug-of-war was exhausting. I felt guilty for not being a good mom to them, but I didn't know what else to do at the time. I needed to grieve Harper; I knew that. It took a long time to find that balance of grief but still enjoying time with my children. This is one area that I know I have made tons of progress. I thought for sure I was going to miss out on their entire childhoods, or that they would somehow be forever scarred by the lack of emotion they received from me, but that phase was short-lived.
I also experienced a lot of joy when I thought about Harper. I would look at her pictures over and over and just marvel at how beautiful she was. I knew she was something special and I knew she had a great purpose even if she never took a breath of air. I wanted everyone to know about her. The cashier at Wal-Mart, the pharmacist at Shopko...any random stranger that glanced my way. I wanted them all to know about my beautiful daughter in Heaven. Most of the time I resisted the urge to tell everyone, but as time wears on I don't hold back as much. I feel great relief when I talk about Harper. Even if people don't really want to hear about her I want to talk about her...and so I share. It makes me so much happier if I can talk about her, as apposed to situations where I don't feel like others really want to know. Its kinda like the elephant in the room...I'd rather talk about her.
The next phase I experienced was the endless "why" questions. I replayed my pregnancy over and over, trying to figure out what I missed or where things went wrong. I thought somehow I had the capabilities to go back and do it all over. "I should have been more vocal with my concerns." "I should have demanded a NST (non-stress test)." "I should have called the minute I realized she wasn't moving." And on and on and on. I would research things on-line and get myself even more worked up. All of the would-a, should-a, could-a's became tormenting. I had to just let it go. That was when I did a lot of God-searching. What did I really believe about God and his sovereignty? Let it go...I knew he was in control. I knew that from the beginning of time he knew there was going to be a little girl named Harper who would be born still in 2010. He knew it all along...before he even created the heavens and the earth...HE KNEW. And he was in control. And as much as I wish I could turn back the hands of time...I can't. As much as I replayed it, the outcome was always the same. She is gone. Nothing will bring her back. I had to accept this and let it go.
This was the point when the denial faded and I was faced with the black-and-white reality. I had a baby and my baby died. I would say it over and over again. Just to remind my self it was real. I had a baby and my baby died. That was when I knew I had to embrace the grieving process...I had to let myself feel the pain. I think I had always relied on some false hope that somehow I could hurry up and grieve and get on with my life. I now accepted the fact that this was something that was not ever going to go away. For as long as I live there will always be a little girl named Harper who is missing from my life. I will be one of those little old ladies on my death bed who says "Now I can go meet my baby."
I would have to say that the latest phase I have been dealing with is the one place I said I would never go. But somehow it found me anyway. ANGER/RESENTMENT/BITTERNESS. I never wanted to deal with this uglier side of loss. I didn't know I couldn't really control that though. I feel like the closeness I felt with God in the beginning has started to diminish and then the anger creeps in. And that scares me. I don't want to be angry with God. I don't want to question what he was thinking. But it has happened anyway. I'm not giving up on him and I know he's not giving up on me. I still believe all of his promises are true, even I can't make any sense of them. I long for that all-consuming presence again. That feeling of being safe in his arms again. I have to keep plugging forward in my relationship with him to get to that place again, and then I feel that the bitterness with subside.
Its amazing when I look back at all I have been through in four and a half months. The initial fog has lifted. I'm not consumed by sadness anymore. I enjoy my kids like I used too. I'm dealing with my loss instead of denying it. I am making progress...I have come a long way in a relatively short amount of time. I'm sorry this is such a long post, but I had to do it for me. I had to put in perspective where I've come from. And how much God has carried me through. I know he loves me. I know his plans are good. I trust him that he will continue to carry me through...through this rocky phase I am in...through the next leg of the journey...through the season of grief all the way to the season of dancing!
Here goes...
Initially I felt numb. It's hard to describe that state of fogginess. I understood what was happening, but I did not believe it was actually happening to me. There were many moments during that day that I almost felt like I was watching the scenes from a movie. Maybe it was the drugs they were giving me to help with the labor pains, but maybe it was just a coping mechanism. I felt very removed from the situation.
Once I saw her I felt overwhelming sadness mixed in with the numb fogginess. I cried more than I thought possible. I didn't know what to do or how to feel. Part of me just wanted to run away, part of me wanted to freeze time so I would never have to let her go. I didn't know what to expect...I was scared of what she would look like...I didn't know if I wanted to hold her. I was very guarded with my heart at first, but I was already so head-over-heals in love with her there was no real way to protect myself .
The next emotion I felt was brokenness. They exact moment I had to lay her in her bassinet and walk away felt like she was being ripped from my arms. Tears are welling in my eyes as I write this because that was the most painful moment of all. I was the one who laid her down, but it felt like she was being forced out of my arms. That was the last time I held her. My heart broke in that moment. And then I had to leave the Family Birth Center. Without a baby. That's just not natural.
The emotion following was aggravation/annoyance. The nurse was trying to make small talk with me as we waited for Joel to pull up with the van. She mentioned something about the weather and blah, blah, blah. SHUT UP! DO YOU REALIZE THAT MY BABY JUST DIED AND I AM GOING HOME EMPTY HANDED. I DO NOT CARE ABOUT THE WEATHER! This is what my heart is screaming, but instead I just nod my head and will Joel to pull up. I did not realize how often I would continue to have this feeling; even with the most well-meaning people.
That night I was relieved to be home. Things somehow felt normal there. It was me and my husband and my kids...just like the night before, and the night before that, and the night before that. She was never really part of our daily routines...it wasn't the whole "some one's missing at the dinner table" thing. Denial set in. I honestly thought I might wake up the next morning and feel normal. Like it was all a bad dream, or just a bad day. But the next morning felt anything but normal. It was all so surreal. Going to the funeral home to make arrangements when I should have still been at the hospital getting to know my new baby. The next few days went on like that. Just feeling so much like, "This is not really happening to me." I was thankful for the business of planning funeral stuff though. It kept my mind occupied.
After the memorial service was over I panicked. Now what? What am I going to do now? How am I going to get through the next day? It was all over. We had buried her body and celebrated her short life. Was I now supposed to carry on a normal life? It was so overwhelming. Joel was off work for another week and we tried to keep life as normal as possible for the kids. We took a trip to the zoo and that was the first time I was confronted with my emotions when seeing newborn babies and pregnant women. I felt like they were everywhere. I saw a woman pick a tiny baby up out of a stroller. Her legs were still curled in like she was still not used to life outside of her mother's womb. My heart sank. Then I saw another women sitting on a bench nursing her newborn baby. Was this not supposed to be me right now? What happened? How did things go so wrong? I did not want to be envious of women with babies...and that has proven to be a hard bridge to cross.
After Joel went back to work it was back to reality for me too. I still had to take care of my two living children. I felt as if I was going through the motions. At first my children were my only source of joy, but by the time Joel went back to work I began getting frustrated with them. The guilt set in big time. I wanted to work on Harper's scrapbook and I would snap at them when they were demanding things from me. I just wanted them to leave me alone. It hurts so much to bring back these feelings. I still loved my kids, but I needed time to grieve. I did not know how to keep being a mom when I was hurting so much. There were so many nights that I would tuck them in and I would look at them and think "What have I even done with you today? Did I even talk to you or read to you?" And then I would lay in my bed and cry. The internal tug-of-war was exhausting. I felt guilty for not being a good mom to them, but I didn't know what else to do at the time. I needed to grieve Harper; I knew that. It took a long time to find that balance of grief but still enjoying time with my children. This is one area that I know I have made tons of progress. I thought for sure I was going to miss out on their entire childhoods, or that they would somehow be forever scarred by the lack of emotion they received from me, but that phase was short-lived.
I also experienced a lot of joy when I thought about Harper. I would look at her pictures over and over and just marvel at how beautiful she was. I knew she was something special and I knew she had a great purpose even if she never took a breath of air. I wanted everyone to know about her. The cashier at Wal-Mart, the pharmacist at Shopko...any random stranger that glanced my way. I wanted them all to know about my beautiful daughter in Heaven. Most of the time I resisted the urge to tell everyone, but as time wears on I don't hold back as much. I feel great relief when I talk about Harper. Even if people don't really want to hear about her I want to talk about her...and so I share. It makes me so much happier if I can talk about her, as apposed to situations where I don't feel like others really want to know. Its kinda like the elephant in the room...I'd rather talk about her.
The next phase I experienced was the endless "why" questions. I replayed my pregnancy over and over, trying to figure out what I missed or where things went wrong. I thought somehow I had the capabilities to go back and do it all over. "I should have been more vocal with my concerns." "I should have demanded a NST (non-stress test)." "I should have called the minute I realized she wasn't moving." And on and on and on. I would research things on-line and get myself even more worked up. All of the would-a, should-a, could-a's became tormenting. I had to just let it go. That was when I did a lot of God-searching. What did I really believe about God and his sovereignty? Let it go...I knew he was in control. I knew that from the beginning of time he knew there was going to be a little girl named Harper who would be born still in 2010. He knew it all along...before he even created the heavens and the earth...HE KNEW. And he was in control. And as much as I wish I could turn back the hands of time...I can't. As much as I replayed it, the outcome was always the same. She is gone. Nothing will bring her back. I had to accept this and let it go.
This was the point when the denial faded and I was faced with the black-and-white reality. I had a baby and my baby died. I would say it over and over again. Just to remind my self it was real. I had a baby and my baby died. That was when I knew I had to embrace the grieving process...I had to let myself feel the pain. I think I had always relied on some false hope that somehow I could hurry up and grieve and get on with my life. I now accepted the fact that this was something that was not ever going to go away. For as long as I live there will always be a little girl named Harper who is missing from my life. I will be one of those little old ladies on my death bed who says "Now I can go meet my baby."
I would have to say that the latest phase I have been dealing with is the one place I said I would never go. But somehow it found me anyway. ANGER/RESENTMENT/BITTERNESS. I never wanted to deal with this uglier side of loss. I didn't know I couldn't really control that though. I feel like the closeness I felt with God in the beginning has started to diminish and then the anger creeps in. And that scares me. I don't want to be angry with God. I don't want to question what he was thinking. But it has happened anyway. I'm not giving up on him and I know he's not giving up on me. I still believe all of his promises are true, even I can't make any sense of them. I long for that all-consuming presence again. That feeling of being safe in his arms again. I have to keep plugging forward in my relationship with him to get to that place again, and then I feel that the bitterness with subside.
Its amazing when I look back at all I have been through in four and a half months. The initial fog has lifted. I'm not consumed by sadness anymore. I enjoy my kids like I used too. I'm dealing with my loss instead of denying it. I am making progress...I have come a long way in a relatively short amount of time. I'm sorry this is such a long post, but I had to do it for me. I had to put in perspective where I've come from. And how much God has carried me through. I know he loves me. I know his plans are good. I trust him that he will continue to carry me through...through this rocky phase I am in...through the next leg of the journey...through the season of grief all the way to the season of dancing!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
'Tis the season
This roller coaster ride called grieving is really getting old. Just this morning I'm thinking about how far I've come in the process and then one little thing happens and sets me off again. Its just tiring and a lot of work. I've "worked" hard for the last four and a half months and I just can't imagine how much more work I'm going to have to do.
I want the grieving to be over, I want the pain to be gone. I no longer feel guilty if I have a good day. I know Harper is perfect and that she loves me. She doesn't want me to hurt and she doesn't feel hurt if I want to enjoy my life. I still have a life to live here...I don't want to spend so much time feeling hurt and lonely and broken.
I thought I was going to be okay for the holidays, but now I'm not so sure. I just wish I could see some sort of light and the end of the tunnel; some small glimmer of hope that this season of grief will not last forever.
I want the grieving to be over, I want the pain to be gone. I no longer feel guilty if I have a good day. I know Harper is perfect and that she loves me. She doesn't want me to hurt and she doesn't feel hurt if I want to enjoy my life. I still have a life to live here...I don't want to spend so much time feeling hurt and lonely and broken.
I thought I was going to be okay for the holidays, but now I'm not so sure. I just wish I could see some sort of light and the end of the tunnel; some small glimmer of hope that this season of grief will not last forever.
Ecclesiastes 3:1,4 ~ There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.I'm trying to be patient with myself...I know this takes time. I'm trying to trust God and believe his word that this is only a season. I want so badly to feel his hope, peace, love, and joy.
Monday, December 20, 2010
I'm moving forward
I'm feeling good today. I'm actually excited about Christmas. The kids are really getting into it this year. I can't wait to see their excited faces Christmas morning as they tear open their gifts. I'm glad I've gotten to this place, because a month ago I don't think I would have been able to feel this excitement. I know its going to hurt to not have Harper here. I still think about her constantly. I've done so much to include her in our celebration this year and I hope these become lasting traditions so she will always be a part of our Christmas. We took a small tree out to the cemetery and decorated it with pink balls and a big pink bow. She has ornaments on our tree. We have an angel that lights up so we can have the light on all day Christmas day to remember her. I know that having these reminders of her will help me get through the day with more joy and peace.
I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have gone through this loss fifty years ago when women weren't allowed to see or hold their babies. They were told to forget about it and have another baby. We've come a long way since then. Feeling like Harper's memory is alive and having ways to include her and remember her is so important for me to move forward in my life. I would give anything to have her here this Christmas (and everyday) but I know that isn't possible. I know it will hurt to celebrate the day without her, and thinking about "what could have been." But really, its not any different than any other day. I wish she was here everyday. I hurt every day for her. And I remember her everyday and include her in my life as much as possible. I will carry Harper with me everyday for the rest of my life.
I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have gone through this loss fifty years ago when women weren't allowed to see or hold their babies. They were told to forget about it and have another baby. We've come a long way since then. Feeling like Harper's memory is alive and having ways to include her and remember her is so important for me to move forward in my life. I would give anything to have her here this Christmas (and everyday) but I know that isn't possible. I know it will hurt to celebrate the day without her, and thinking about "what could have been." But really, its not any different than any other day. I wish she was here everyday. I hurt every day for her. And I remember her everyday and include her in my life as much as possible. I will carry Harper with me everyday for the rest of my life.
I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below
with tiny lights like Heaven's stars reflecting on the snow.
with tiny lights like Heaven's stars reflecting on the snow.
The sight is so spectacular please wipe away that tear
for I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.
for I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.
I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear
but the sound of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here.
but the sound of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here.
I have no words to tell you of the joy their voices bring
for it is beyond description to hear the angels sing.
for it is beyond description to hear the angels sing.
I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart
for I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.
for I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.
I can't tell you of the splendor or the peace here in this place
Can you just imagine Christmas with our Savior face to face
Can you just imagine Christmas with our Savior face to face
I'll ask him to lift your spirit as I tell him of your love
so then pray for one another as you lift your eyes above.
so then pray for one another as you lift your eyes above.
Please let your hearts be joyful and let your spirit sing
for I am spending Christmas in Heaven and I’m walking with the King.
~ by Wanda White
© Copyright 1999
© Copyright 1999
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
You're Gonna Miss This
It seems that every time I get on facebook someone is counting down the days until their baby is due. It always strikes a nerve with me...why are these people counting down the days until their baby dies? As if everyone who is pregnant is going to lose their child...
I guess the bigger issue is the fact that I did this myself. I impatiently counted down the weeks until Harper was due. I willed so much of my pregnancy with her away. The first 16 weeks I was so exhausted and nauseous. I couldn't wait for that to be over. Then around 5 months my hips and back started aching so bad. I couldn't sleep and then summer hit and I swelled up so bad. I was miserable for most of the nine months I was pregnant.
Each day that last week felt like an eternity. I cried because I was so tired of being pregnant; I just wanted it to be over. But now I realize what a gift that pregnancy was. Those were the only moments of Harper's life that she was alive and well...and I wished them away. I should have spent each moment enjoying each kick or hiccup, because that meant she was moving and growing. When I see my friends post their countdowns, it really just triggers guilt in myself, because those nine months were all I had with her. I wish I would have savored it...because now I certainly miss it.
*You'll have to pause the media player at the bottom if you want to hear this video*
I guess the bigger issue is the fact that I did this myself. I impatiently counted down the weeks until Harper was due. I willed so much of my pregnancy with her away. The first 16 weeks I was so exhausted and nauseous. I couldn't wait for that to be over. Then around 5 months my hips and back started aching so bad. I couldn't sleep and then summer hit and I swelled up so bad. I was miserable for most of the nine months I was pregnant.
Each day that last week felt like an eternity. I cried because I was so tired of being pregnant; I just wanted it to be over. But now I realize what a gift that pregnancy was. Those were the only moments of Harper's life that she was alive and well...and I wished them away. I should have spent each moment enjoying each kick or hiccup, because that meant she was moving and growing. When I see my friends post their countdowns, it really just triggers guilt in myself, because those nine months were all I had with her. I wish I would have savored it...because now I certainly miss it.
*You'll have to pause the media player at the bottom if you want to hear this video*
Sunday, December 5, 2010
December 5th, 2009
One year ago today the test came back positive, and I fell in love. I knew my life was about to change but I could have never imagined how much, or in this way. If I knew how things were going to turn out I would have still gone through everything because I love her so much.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Waves
One summer when I was about 10 and my sister was 5 we were at Magic Waters Water park. We were in the big wave pool without our tubes because the waves were on break. The water was still and we were splashing and enjoying the summer fun. Then the whistle blows its warning and the waves start back up again. We are out to far and Kim can't reach when the waves sweep over us. I hold on to her, but I can't carry her and keep myself above the waves. I can't let go of her, but I can't move forward either. Each wave comes crashing over us and we struggle to make our way out of it. Finally a lifeguard spots us and blows his whistle to stop the waves. He jumps in to rescue us out of the pool.
I feel like that today, actually for the past few days. Things were nice and calm. I was having fun again, enjoying things again...and then the waves began to swallow me up, without the warning of a whistle blowing. I'm struggling, trying to stay afloat, holding on to something so precious to me that I can't let it go. I know if I let it go I will have better chances of getting out of the water, but how can I possibly let go?
And so I wait. I wait for the waves to stop. I wait for strong arms to come swoop me up out of the dangerous waters. Where are you God? Why are you letting me drown? Why I am I so afraid? Where is my hope? Where is my faith?
I feel like that today, actually for the past few days. Things were nice and calm. I was having fun again, enjoying things again...and then the waves began to swallow me up, without the warning of a whistle blowing. I'm struggling, trying to stay afloat, holding on to something so precious to me that I can't let it go. I know if I let it go I will have better chances of getting out of the water, but how can I possibly let go?
And so I wait. I wait for the waves to stop. I wait for strong arms to come swoop me up out of the dangerous waters. Where are you God? Why are you letting me drown? Why I am I so afraid? Where is my hope? Where is my faith?
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The "old" Jen
Last night as I was giving the kids a bath, my husband looks at me and says, "You are such a mom now." I told him I thought I had been a mom for over three years, but he said, "There's nothing left of the old Jen." I suppose he's right, becoming a mother does change a person. We no longer run out for tacos at 1 a.m. or sleep until noon. My hair isn't blond anymore, and my middle is a little (maybe a lot) softer. I think about me a lot less because I have two little people depending on me every day.
This conversation made me think though. How much of this change is because I'm a mom, and how much more have I changed in the last 3 1/2 months. I would consider the "old" Jen the person who existed before August 10, 2010. That day changed me more than the day I gave birth to Emmerson changed me. I had wanted to be a mom for so long that I was ready to embrace motherhood. I was in no way prepared to embrace grieving.
At the stillbirth support group meeting last week, we talked about the amount of time we knew our babies had passed away until the time we held them. I was officially told that Harper had died at 4 a.m and by quarter to 9 I was holding her. Less than five hours. Twenty-four hours after I had heard her heartbeat and felt her kick. And by 6 p.m. the same day I gave birth I was sitting in the same chair in my living room I had sat in at 9 p.m. the night before when I was pushing on my stomach trying to get Harper to move. It all happened so fast. That is just such a short amount of time to be prepared for such a loss. But I am convinced that no amount of time would have been enough.
One of my biggest regrets is how long it took me to bond with her after she was born. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what she would look like, or even if I wanted to hold her. Of course after the final push I wanted her in my arms, and then I didn't want to let her go, but it was so hard for me to let myself love her. As the day wore on and I spent more time holding her, the shock wore off a bit and I let my guard down. I was able to cuddle her and kiss her and tell her how much I loved her. But then it was time to let her go. The small amount of time I had with her was so precious and I feel I wasted so much of it in shock. That is the only reason I wish I would have had more time to prepare, but of course, how can I really know I would have been anymore prepared.
That day has forever changed me. My heart is broken, a little piece missing forever. But I think I can honestly say that August 10th changed me for the better. I've learned so much about loving and letting go. I feel more peace than I have ever felt. I feel more purpose in my life and a meaning I would have never had without Harper. My relationship with Christ has reached a new level. I'm learning to trust and forgive. This life is so short, just like my hours with Harper, and I don't want to have any regrets. Grieving is hard and is certainly not a path I would have chosen, but God is faithful and he is developing me into the woman he wants me to be.
I suppose that's how life is...things happen in our lives that shape us into who we are. Becoming a mom changed me. Losing Harper changed me. And knowing Christ has changed me...I am certainly not the "old" Jen anymore.
This conversation made me think though. How much of this change is because I'm a mom, and how much more have I changed in the last 3 1/2 months. I would consider the "old" Jen the person who existed before August 10, 2010. That day changed me more than the day I gave birth to Emmerson changed me. I had wanted to be a mom for so long that I was ready to embrace motherhood. I was in no way prepared to embrace grieving.
At the stillbirth support group meeting last week, we talked about the amount of time we knew our babies had passed away until the time we held them. I was officially told that Harper had died at 4 a.m and by quarter to 9 I was holding her. Less than five hours. Twenty-four hours after I had heard her heartbeat and felt her kick. And by 6 p.m. the same day I gave birth I was sitting in the same chair in my living room I had sat in at 9 p.m. the night before when I was pushing on my stomach trying to get Harper to move. It all happened so fast. That is just such a short amount of time to be prepared for such a loss. But I am convinced that no amount of time would have been enough.
One of my biggest regrets is how long it took me to bond with her after she was born. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what she would look like, or even if I wanted to hold her. Of course after the final push I wanted her in my arms, and then I didn't want to let her go, but it was so hard for me to let myself love her. As the day wore on and I spent more time holding her, the shock wore off a bit and I let my guard down. I was able to cuddle her and kiss her and tell her how much I loved her. But then it was time to let her go. The small amount of time I had with her was so precious and I feel I wasted so much of it in shock. That is the only reason I wish I would have had more time to prepare, but of course, how can I really know I would have been anymore prepared.
That day has forever changed me. My heart is broken, a little piece missing forever. But I think I can honestly say that August 10th changed me for the better. I've learned so much about loving and letting go. I feel more peace than I have ever felt. I feel more purpose in my life and a meaning I would have never had without Harper. My relationship with Christ has reached a new level. I'm learning to trust and forgive. This life is so short, just like my hours with Harper, and I don't want to have any regrets. Grieving is hard and is certainly not a path I would have chosen, but God is faithful and he is developing me into the woman he wants me to be.
I suppose that's how life is...things happen in our lives that shape us into who we are. Becoming a mom changed me. Losing Harper changed me. And knowing Christ has changed me...I am certainly not the "old" Jen anymore.
The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. Beautiful people do not just happen. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
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