Favorite Things

This is journal number 2:

Our relationship was special. I want to describe things we did together, what we enjoyed and some of our favorite things.

In some ways this question is difficult because our memories aren't the same as memories I share with others. But when I think back on my pregnancy there are many things I'm so glad we shared together.

For one, I am so very glad you came with me on baseball adventures new and old. We shared several games at Chase Field watching the D-backs in one of their worst seasons ever. But we ate hot dogs and ice cream and sang "Take Me Out to the Ballgame". We also experienced an amazing encounter with God at the Mercy Me concert at Chase. I felt so close to God that night and so very close to you.

We also went to two new ballparks together--Coors Field and Citizens Bank Park. You got to experience baseball with your Grandpa Don and Grandma Nancy who don't love baseball, but loved both of us enough to go see the Rockies. Another D-back loss we witnessed together. Then Dawn went on a big adventure with us to see the Phillies. I was so happy you were there sharing that new place with me, especially because your dad couldn't be. We ate some pretty yummy ice cream there too.

Your presence prompted my spirit of adventure and so off I went to Philly to visit Dawn. I'm not too keen on doing things alone, but I didn't feel alone--you were there. We strolled through the most beautiful art museum I've ever seen and I told you all about my favorite paintings. We spent hours in Constitution Hall and you humored me as I perused every display there. You wandered the city of Philly with me as we found the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall and Christ Church. You were such a trooper because we were both exhausted at that point.

Dawn went with us on our New York adventure. I'm so glad you experienced a Broadway show; the music was amazing, wasn't it? And we certainly did our fair share of walking that day, but it was worth it for the food...

Oh baby girl did we share food! You really were your mother's daughter in this area. From the get-go you were hungry all the time. I felt like I was constantly eating--yogurt, pretzels, nuts, granola bars--but you did not like chicken. Rotisserie chicken and I may never be the same again after you. But boy did you love avacado and guacamole-yum!

Although we had some rocky food moments (did I mention you weren't a big fan of sugar?) we shared some good meals. You loved pizza and just like Mom and Dad, you loved your Old Chicago. There was also the Philly Cheese steak with Dawn as well as that delicious lemon and caper chicken in New York. And you sweetly let your Mom eat a huge peanut butter sundae at Serendipity--thank you for that.

Our experiences were so limited. I never even got to take you to my happy place--Disneyland. But I am so thankful for the time I had with you. I enjoyed showing you off to others; you gave me a cute little belly. I enjoyed talking to you, explaining who people were and telling you about how things would be when you arrived. I loved singing to you--I hope those songs echo in your heart forever. I enjoyed worshiping with you inside of me; your presence gave me a greater glimpse of our God. I loved talking to your dad about what you'd be like, who you'd be and what I was looking forward to doing with you.

Thank you for being my constant companion for 19 weeks. The moments we shared I will treasure always. I wish there were more, I wish I could fill this book with stories of our adventures, I wish that all of my heart. But God has different adventures in store for you. May you frolic and sing and talk and read and hug and dance with our Jesus. Practice for me because when I get to heaven I will need you to teach me. We will share all of those things together someday sweet girl. I can't wait!

I love you sweet girl,
Mom

Journaling

My counselor encouraged me to journal through my grief process, so I've started a hand-written journal. There is something therapeutic about hand-writing my thoughts, but I do love the authenticity of sharing my heart via blog. So I'm going to try and track my thoughts in both places. Below is my first journal entry. Thanks for sharing this journey with me.

I want to begin this journal describing who you were and what you meant to me.

Who you were started long before your conception. Your dad and I made a bet when we were first married that I wouldn't last six months without talking about my dreams of having children. Your dad underestimates my will and I won, but it was only because I didn't open my mouth when those dreams came to mind.

After that I did often talk about wanting children. I looked forward with great anticipation and longing to the day we would be Mom and Dad. There was much waiting attached to that dream--waiting on me to finish college, waiting on your dad to finish law school, waiting on a house, waiting on a job, waiting...

But the day we discovered we were pregnant our waiting had all been worthwhile. You were here, you were growing inside of me and you were on your way to meet us. I tried to contain my excitement, tried to hide how overjoyed that this moment had come. After all, we had no guarantee that you were a sure thing, at least not until we heard your precious heart beat.

So at first we told our most trusted family and friends. Grandma and Aunt Kevyn were just tickled pink to welcome you to our world, maybe I should say ticked blue because almost everyone was convinced you were a boy. Even your dad was certain you were a boy, but I knew differently. I knew you were a precious little girl, my little girl. I had always thought I wanted a boy but when I became pregnant with you the desires of my heart changed. I wanted my little girl, I wanted you. We were going to be a mother and daughter pair equal to my mom and me. I couldn't wait to watch you twirl and sing and hold my hand as you told me your stories, because I knew you'd be a great storyteller like your momma.

The more people we told, the more excited others grew in anticipation of you and the more my excitement grew. The day we heard your heart beat was a magical day. We went to see Dr. Riley with great anticipation in our hearts and we waited with baited breath as she searched for your tiny heart beat. And there it was! Confirmation that you were there and growing and ours! The look on your daddy's face was so tender--he was so excited that you were here! And that is when we decided to tell the world. We told everyone. It was impossible to contain excitement like that--the joy of you just overflowing from our hearts, our faces. You were to be our first born, our precious life-changing miracle. You were going to change everything, in the best way possible.

You meant fulfilling my life's dream, fulfilling my heart's desires. I was going to leave teaching to stay at home with you. Your arrival meant a new job description for me. Your arrival meant feeling less alone in so many ways. It meant I would finally know and understand the experience of carrying a child and being a mother--I would no longer be standing outside of the mother club looking in. Selfish I know, but it was one of the things you brought me.

Your arrival was and did rock my world. You meant a new walk in life. You meant a deeper understanding of God, of the sacrifice of His son. You meant new joys, new ways of looking at life. You meant new worries, new things to think about, new challenges. You meant HOPE, the anticipation of great things. You were your name long before we gave it to you. You embodied your name and lived up to it in so many ways.

I speak and write about you in the past tense but you are also present. Your presence bring Hope. I can see it as I talk about you, people are inspired, encouraged, enlightened, uplifted. You are a reminder of how beautiful life can be, how precious each life truly is. You are a reminder to be thankful for and love who we have. You are my Hope, you give me Hope and you remind me so often of the Hope found in my Jesus.

I think it's important to write about another precious aspect of who you were. You had Down's Syndrome and I hope you can see that this in no way defines you. It isn't what I think about or see when I imagine you, but it is a part of who you were. I'm not sure how it's possible because I loved you so very deeply in the first place but when I discovered this truth about you, I loved you all the more. Your Down's Syndrome would have been a challenge, yes, but it would've made you more beautiful with something so uniquely special to offer this world. I know that you had deep capacity for love and that would've been and was such a gift to my heart, and I can't even imagine the impact your love would've had on the world. I have no doubt that you are loving people to pieces up there in heaven. Almost every vision I have of you is of you running with open arms to hug someone, Jesus, me, Aunt Kelly and so I am certain of the love you are spreading around heaven.

My little one, I want you to know that you were my Hope and my dreams, you were what I longed for, you were my heart's desire. But my deepest desire when I think about it was that you know the Lord and now you have that so perfectly and immediately. So thank you for fulfilling my heart's desire. Thank you for bringing me joy, hope and anticipation, for being my first. And thank you for allowing us to meet you, hold you, cherish you, love you. It is a joy and an honor to be your mom. You gave me that title you know--Mom. Without you I wouldn't have that. But because of you I know the love of a mother for her child--it is a fierce love, one that I am grateful to know and grateful to have for you. And because of you, dear one, I more fiercely know and love my Savior. I more deeply understand His love, His grace, His mercy, His comfort. These are all gifts you've given me. You've abundantly blessed my life and for you I will be forever grateful. I will love you always, even as life passes on; you will be and are always in my heart.

I love you my Hope,
Mom

Musings Part 3

-One must be a glutton for punishment to go to Disneyland after losing a child; it is after all the land of children of all ages. I lasted 5 minutes before I broke down crying after seeing a mom and daughter interact in the bathroom.

-The hardest part of this loss is grieving the dreams you had for your child. The hard part is that some of the dreams you've identified and some you haven't even thought of. Here are some of the dreams lost that I experienced this weekend:

*Taking my daughter to Disneyland and watching her face light up at each of the characters

*Watching Hope's face as she watched fireworks; there is nothing as magical as a child's face as they watch fireworks

*Sharing all of my favorite Disneyland places--Peter Pan, Small World, Pirates of the Carribean

*Holding her hand; this one kept coming to me over and over again

*As I listened to each of my family members interact with my cousin's daughter, I grieved not getting to hear them play with Hope. I will miss out on her laughter as they tickle her or chase her. I will miss out on hearing my Aunt Kasey sing songs, real and made up, to Hope. But the one that is overwhelming to think about is not getting to hear my mom call Hope "Pumpkin-diddle", her nickname for me growing up.

*Hearing Hope say "Momma"

*Sharing holiday traditions with my little girl, traditions that have meant so much to me.

-Do you know how many Christmas songs are about being pregnant, giving birth and newborn babies? I do.

-I didn't cry nearly at all yesterday and when I got to the end of the day I felt badly about that. I shouldn't but I did.

-I've been trying to not distract myself from pain or ignore it, but it was the only way to survive Disneyland. I guess I've got to do what I need to do to get through some days.

-Herb's grief looks different than mine, but once I figured it out it was a beautiful sight to behold.

-You know my family is good at grieving because they always carry soft tissues.

-Most women claim that their body shape changes after pregnancy but they don't mind so much because they have this beautiful baby. My body shape has definitely changed and it just makes me all the more sad.

-The thought of making a list of material things I want for Christmas is very difficult for me. I don't really want any material things and the one thing that I want that isn't material I can't have.

-I still want to decorate for Christmas but I don't really have any inspiration for gift giving this year. Will people understand if I don't give at my normal creative capacity? I sure hope so.

-I have experienced God's comfort and rest in the midst of this. I am thankful for much needed rest and for a place to retreat when I am too overwhelmed.

Musings of a grieving woman-part 2

-I hate getting dressed in the morning because none of my regular clothes fit and I don't want to wear pregnancy clothes. I usually end up in tears.

-I feel a lot of pressure, mostly from myself, to have a plan and know what I should be doing. The pressure doesn't help the already difficult decisions I have to face.

-I think often about the trying again process, and it leaves me with so many questions:

*Would I want a boy or a girl? I was so convinced Hope was a girl and I wanted that little girl so badly. What if I did have another girl? Would I feel like she was replacing Hope? What if I have a boy? Would I be sad to miss out on the experience of my little girl? I'm sure I will feel blessed with whatever child God's given me, but I still question...

*People say you make room in your heart for a second child, that your love grows to encompass them both. How does it work to make room in my heart for my second child when I don't even feel like I've had the full opportunity to be a mom of my first?

*How on earth would I survive if this happened again?

*How do I honor Hope while enjoying the process of having another child?

-This week is going to really suck. I'm grieving the loss of the week in which we were supposed to see our baby for the first time on sonogram. I'm grieving the loss of the opportunity to announce her gender to our family and friends. I'm grieving the excitement that Wednesday was to bring. I'm grieving that my family won't get to meet my little girl and rub my belly. I'm grieving this week...

-I was thinking about what a uniquely cool experience I will get to have when arriving in heaven. I will get to meet my baby in her glorified body and embrace her truly for the first time. Yet another piece of heaven to look toward eagerly. I can't wait Hope, I can't wait!

-During worship last night I was convicted that I can't make my grief and my Hope an idol in my life. Instead of becoming consumed, I need to focus more on God's hand in all of this, how He is working. Not exactly sure how to do that, but I'm trying...

-Last night at church our pastor encouraged us to thank God for the hard things in our lives. I wonder, do I have to get to the place where I can thank God for my miscarriage? For taking my Hope? I'm not sure if I can get to that place...I can absolutely thank Him for the things His doing around and through this, but I'm not sure I can thank Him for taking her away.

-The only way I can reconcile or be at peace with this situation is to believe that it is for God's glory. It is my only current comfort.

-I'm thankful for the deep reassurance God has placed in my heart of His existence and power and love and mercy and hope. Without them, I'm not sure I could walk through the bouts of silence and hurt.

-What will Disneyland be like for me this week? Will it still be the happiest place on earth? Will I still be able to find joy there? Or will I be unable to enjoy, unable to experience happiness? I hope I can enjoy, or is it rather that I hope I can allow myself to enjoy it.

-I'm looking forward to being with my family this week. For lack of a better way to put it, they are good at grieving and I will appreciate and take comfort in their grieving alongside of me.

Musing of a grief sticken woman-part 1

I have many small thoughts that hit me like a semi-truck or things that run through my mind that I feel like sharing. This is my forum for these thoughts.

-Most women would rejoice that they fit into their pre-pregnancy pants; I sat on the floor of my bedroom and cried.

-Yogurt was my pregnancy food; it helped keep the nausea at bay and kept me from getting hungry while sleeping. Eating it now is hard, and I just don't want to.

-I keep speaking about my pregnancy in the present tense and then I remember...

-I used to look at my belly in the shower thankful that it was growing; now I look down and wish it were there.

-What do I do with things like the pregnancy test, things that we kept with such joy?

-I keep remembering things I've said throughout my pregnancy that are painful to think of now. Examples: "What an amazing blessing that no woman in our Bible study has miscarried." " All of these women are having their second babies, I think one would be more than enough for me."

-"What if" questions may be worse than "why" questions. Both occur far too frequently.

-The people who come by remind me of how blessed I truly am. If it weren't for them, I'd get too lost in the blessing I've lost.

-I can't imagine going through this with anyone but Herb. I am married to the sweetest, most gentle and patient man. He is one of God's greatest gifts to me.

-My attention span is very small. I can't stay focused on one thing for too long. Very unusual for me.

-Music gives me words to talk to God when I have none. I'm thankful for that.

-I think about dumb things like "I haven't shaved since the miscarriage" and I am resistant to doing those things, like it will somehow change what already is.

-I don't miss work at all; it's a very strange phenomenon.

That's all I got for now.

Loss

I know I haven't posted in a while, in fact I haven't posted since becoming pregnant. And now here I am posting after the loss of my little Hope at 18 weeks of pregnancy. I am not really as coherent with my thoughts as I'd like to be, but I did want to share this vision I had yesterday. It has been precious in holding my heart up these last 24 hours.

I was listening to a CD made for me, I call it For Hope, and one of the songs was talking about how she couldn't see God, but in actuality He had been standing beside her crying along with her. When I started to think on that, this image popped into my head:

I started to imagine God last Monday, watching me live through my day as usual, knowing what I was about to find out Monday afternoon. I imagine how grieved His heart was knowing the pain I was about to endure. I imagine Him wanting to rescue me from it, but knowing it was too late, everything had been set in motion. So He just sat, and watched me, and cried as I found out the most earth shattering news possible. He is my Daddy, just like I am Hope's Mommy and Herb is Hope's Daddy, and I know that more than anything in the world He wanted to ease our pain.

For some of you this image might not be comforting, but for me it reminds me of God's character. He is gentle, loving, and we are so very precious to Him. So when I am angry or when I am hurting or when I am lost or when I am hopeless, I try and remember God's gentle hand wiping away my tears as He weeps along with me.

History

God is full of non-coincidences this week! My anxiety has been much lower for the past ten days, and I could point to many different factors, but I think the most important is history. I know it sounds odd, but when I went through and re-read my blog entries I was reminded so much of how faithful God has been to me. I could see how He's worked through so many trying circumstances to create good. It was evident the love and care He has for me.

Then I've been focusing on the first lyrics of the Watermark song "Who Am I?"

Over time you've healed so much in me and I am living proof
That although my darkest hour had come Your light could still shine through
Though at times its just enough to cast a shadow on the wall
Lord, I am grateful that you shined Your light on me at all

He has healed so much in me, and in my darkest hours I've seen Him shine. These words have just reverberated in my heart.

Also being back in the classroom has reminded me that historically I've been a strong teacher, not perfect, but strong. I have a sense that in general I know what I'm doing, which eases much of the stress and anxiety of the job.

But all of this was just theory until we watched the Truth Project this week. The topic for this week's lecture was: History. Dr. Tackett spent this week explaining how history is one of our most powerful links to the Lord. He points to the many instances where God asks His people to remember His goodness to them. The celebration of Passover to remember how He spared the first born child, the celebration of communion to remember the sacrifice of Christ. Remembering is important to God because it is good for us.

He then discussed the way in which the enemy tries to shake us, by revising history, causing us to forget. Dr. Tackett points to the first instance of turning from God--the Serpent told Eve that she did not remember correctly what God had instructed her. He revised God's words and twisted them to create doubt. When we can't remember God's goodness and faithfulness, we doubt them, which is not a reflection on God but on us. This is why it is so important that we remember our story and the greater story we are a part of. Our history is important.

Finally in my "do not fear" study I stumbled upon this passage in Isaiah 51:12-16:
I, even I, am He who comforts you
Who are you that you are afraid of man who dies
And of the son of man who is made like grass,
¹³That you have forgotten the LORD your Maker,
Who stretched out the heavens
And laid the foundations of the earth,
That you fear continually all day long because of the fury of the oppressor,
As he makes ready to destroy?
But where is the fury of the oppressor?

¹⁴"The exile will soon be set free, and will not die in the dungeon, nor will his bread be lacking.

¹⁵"For I am the LORD your God, who stirs up the sea and its waves roar (the LORD of hosts is His name).

¹⁶"I have put My words in your mouth and have covered you with the shadow of My hand, to establish the heavens, to found the earth, and to say to Zion, 'You are My people.'"

Fear comes when we forget, when we forget how Sovereign and powerful our God is, when we forget that He has covered us in the shadow of His hand, when we forget that we are His people. But freedom comes when we remember.

All experiences point to remembering my history. So right now, I'm focusing on my story and the greater story I am a part of. I'm trying to remember God's faithfulness and goodness. And I'm working on recognizing the revised history that Satan is trying to use against me. Our God is faithful and His story is good; it might not be safe, but it is good. I want to be a part of history, His story for our lives.