The Dreaded Three Days

This weekend has been so hard.  I've tried, really I have, to not dwell on things, but it seems to be sneaking up on me like never before.  I will be up doing dishes and the next thing I realize is that I'm staring out the window with tears in my eyes.  Normally it's just a sadness that washes over me, but this year I'm angry.  I'm angry at the world, every baby girl I see, even God to a degree.  How can these people with precious girls complain about them?  How can they wish them away, even in a fit of exasperation?  How could God, with His ability to know all, take away something that my heart so longed for?

 I keep thinking of all the things I will never get to do...not just because she is gone, but because we are done having children and she was my only chance...I will never watch my daughter learn to walk, I will never dress her in frilly clothes, I will never make her booties with bows, I will never talk about boys with her, never watch as she falls in love, and I will never be able to console her when her heart is broken.  There is no one for me to pass down MY legacy to.  Boys only carry a mother so far.  It's the things they learn from their father that they live with...how to change a tire, how to fix things, how to drive, how to shoot.  No one cares about family recipes.  No one cares about the best way to get soap scum off the shower.  I will never help my daughter get ready for her first day of school, homecoming, the prom, dates, her wedding...I will never see her swell as she carries a sweet child with in her.  I will never be able to pass down all I know and all I have learned about being a mother.  I feel like a dead end road.

We are taking Daniel to a local nature building today where they are bringing out animals and letting the kids touch them...he should really enjoy that.  Just something special to get out of the house.  I hope it works.

Dreaming of Her

Isnt it amazing how things can mean one thing to you one day and something completely different the next?  As your life changes, as YOU change, things like song lyrics, poems, quotes, and even dreams, can take on whole new meanings.

After the birth of my first son I started dreaming of another baby.  These were extremely vivid "feel like I'm really there" type dreams.  It was always the same baby...Always.  It was a little girl, a sweet precious little girl.  In my dreams I was pregnant with her, I labored with her...I never saw the delivery, but I nursed her.  I remember sitting in a rocking chair late at night with her wrapped in my arms, singing her the songs that my grandma sang to me when I was just a baby.  I watched her grow into toddler hood, but mostly my dreams centered around her as a baby.  Her coos, her cries, her smiles, her needs, her fears....HER.

I was convinced this was God's way of telling me that my next baby would be a girl.  I had always wanted a little girl....always.  I wanted someone to carry MY legacy, some one to teach MY things to, some one with whom I could break a cycle that has been in family for generations.  Her name was to be Emma Lou after both of my grandma's.  I knew we would have our issues as time moved on, as all mothers and daughters do, but she was to ultimately be my best friend.

When we became pregnant with Vanessa there was no doubt in my mind she was a girl.  I had been dreaming of her for years!  I instantly started calling her Emma as a step of faith.  I talked to her about every last little detail of every day.  Folding clothes, doing dishes, her daddy's touch, my love, the color of the sky, the songs of the birds....everything.  When she left me...oh, the pain.  It was like having all those hopes and dreams ripped out of my heart, my mind...my very existence was torn.  I felt her death all the way to my core.  She was NOT my Emma.  She couldnt have been.  I was to watch that little girl grow up, hold her in my arms, nurse her, cuddle her....and so we named her Vanessa.  My Emma would not have left me.

The more I think about it, though, I have to wonder, was that really her in those dreams?  So many times God has allowed me glimpses of her to calm my heart and mind.  Could that have been His way of knowing the pain to come and allowing me to have some time with her.  I cherished those dreams then just as I cherish the ones I have now.  Now that I am on THIS side of my baby days...and it has become obvious I will never have the daughter my heart so longed for...I have to wonder if that was who that was all along.  I saved the name Emma for a living daughter I thought I would some day have, but what if Vanessa had been the Emma from my dreams and Emma in my dreams was really Vanessa?  Does that even make sense to anyone but me?  I thought they were two different little girls, but they could have been the same.  God gave me so much time with her...years...and I didnt even know it.

Breathing

This week is about breathing.  Just breathing.  The housework doesnt matter.  The family will be fed.  The day will keep moving on.  I just have to breath.  One foot in front of the other.

This weekend marks my little girl's third angelversary.  I would be lying if I said it didnt hurt.  It's not that all consuming grief, and Im sure it's being exacerbated by pregnancy hormones, but it still stings.  I try to not dwell on it, but this week is especially tough.  I'm so thankful for the sweet little boys God has sent me to ease my pain.  I have been pouring my time into crocheting things for them.  DH is helping me find something fun to do this week with Daniel to celebrate Vanessa's short, sweet life.  Luke will be with his dad.  Right now we are thinking about just cooking out and maybe going to some events at a local nature park.  I'm sure, Lord willing and weather permitting, there will be geocaching involved.  None of us can cache anymore without thinking of her.  It was so helpful to me to get out of the house and pour my attention into SOMETHING those early months...even if it was something as silly as finding tupperware in the woods.  LoL!  Hey, whatever helps!

Please, keep us in your prayers.  Like I said, the pregnancy hormones arent helping me one bit.

Easter shopping

I posted a slight rant on facebook today and I got this...

Sorry Betty but u have 3 handsome boys 

Really?
Those boys are just that...boys.  They are not my daughter.  Even if they were girls, they are not Vanessa.  More children do not replace the one that is lost.  A mother's hurting heart is not one that is unthankful for what she has...she just hurts for what was taken.  Needless to say that person is no longer on my friends list.

On another note...we are going tonight to finish Easter shopping and get Luke's Easter outfit.  He loves to match Daniel.  Crazy for an older one his age, but I think it's cute!  I spent half the day configuring a way around the store and to the boys dept without going past the Easter dresses.  Hopefully they stay tucked away this year.  I AM, however, super excited about shopping for the Easter baskets!  I love that little dollar nook at the front of the Target stores...and Dollar Tree!  Oh, I cant wait!  Luke has the rest of the week off school and we coloring eggs tomorrow.  We are trying the Kool-Aid method this year.  We will see how it goes!

If someone you know has lost a child...please, dont shove them away or be negative.  Let them grieve.  Take a moment to think about how YOU would feel if you YOUR child had died.  No matter the age that child was it HURTS.  No matter how much time has passed since that child's death it HURTS.  Have a little compassion.

Mistakes

Have you ever hit bottom and then looked behind you, seeing a whole slew of mistakes that led you to the exact moment you are standing in?  In the individual moments you had no idea, but looking back you can see how you set yourself up.  That has been this weekend for me.

This weekend was planned with literal back to back activities.  I told myself it was "family weekend" and we were having fun with my oldest.  And then today happened.  More on today later.

Last night I was achy...pregnancy hurts, what can I say?   My back goes out, my hips follow.  The pain triggers my ankles to hurt, and eventually it finds it's way into my neck and shoulders.  Thinking perhaps my blood pressure was high, and it was a little elevated for me, I hopped in an oatmeal bath.  It was glorious.  To help with the insomnia I've been having I sprinkled in a few drops of Lavender oil.  Mistake One.  Lavender makes  me think purple, purple makes me think Vanessa.  I basked in it, though.  I thought back on my time with her and rinsed my swollen belly with oatmeal water.  I went to bed with Daniel and slept like a husband.  Lol!

This morning I had every intention of staying home with Daniel while Landon and my oldest, Luke, went to a pancake breakfast for the Masons in Upper.  I didnt want to take little man since he and I are dairy free due to allergies...and he so loves his pancakes.  I felt bad, though, because my MIL volunteers (she's in Easter Star) and she loves showing off her grand babies.  What grandma doesnt?  So, Landon suggested I take some of my own pancakes I had made a froze.  Off we went to Upper.  Mistake two.  On the way there I was thinking about all the times we had went before.  My dad and grandpa are awesome at remembering dates and like to play, "Guess what happened 5 years ago today."  Drives me nuts, but then I catch myself doing it too.  Going back year by year I remembered that it was at this exact pancake breakfast in 2010 that we handed Landon's mom and grandma little poems that were written by, and signed by, baby Jackson...who was none other than Vanessa.  This was the event where we announced to them that we were expecting.  My heart caught for a moment and then I looked out the car window at the beautiful day we had been blessed with and I mentally moved on.

Here is the problem I have with mentally moving on...I don't always.  My proverbial stove top has a HUGE amount of back burners, and that is where most things get put.  I think I've let something go and some to find out it was just simmering in the back somewhere.  I started feeling withdrawn at the breakfast...nothing new. I figured it was just due to the crowd.  On the way home I started getting tense and my head ache came back.  I pretty much became a bag of raging hormones when my husband decided he didnt want to go shopping for the kids' Easter baskets today...He's tired of going and we still have Fun Night at the school tonight.  I got irritable, felt sick, moody, sore all over....hormones I decided.  I sat in this state stewing over my cancelled plans.  I told myself it was for the best since I was so sore and I have two events, one tonight and one tomorrow, that I had volunteered for that would require lots of walking.  I decided that I was just so upset because I spend all week cooped up in the house with no car...it's a weekend and dang it I want to go somewhere.  It wasn't until I was making lunch and found myself sobbing while stirring some chicken noodle soup that realized what was wrong with me.  It was HER.  My heart ached for HER.  I sobbed...I cried...I scared the pants off my husband.  I couldn't tell him what was wrong.  It's been three years.  I don't even know if he gives her much of a thought anymore.  When I was done, I felt better.  Fewer aches, less of that caged animal feeling for not being let out of my house...I looked back and seen how I had been subconsciously trying to avoid this weekend for weeks.  I panicked because my crazy husband made me stay home and face it.

For those finding this who are fresh in their grief, yes, it gets better, and yes, it will still hurt.  There will be days YEARS down the road when you get knocked off your feet...but standing up gets easier.

WWY~Mirror, Mirror-The Comparison Trap

Mothers often fall into the trap of comparing ourselves to one another. This is a trap many women fall into. We compare our families, mothering styles, fashion sense, careers or lack thereof, bodies, etc. Even mothers with babies in heaven compare the way we grieve our children. I know…sad…but we do it, if we’re honest enough to admit it. So, how can we find freedom from this? Sharing is a start…telling the truth…admitting the struggle. I think, then, we will see that we all love our children, regardless of how we choose to remember and honor their lives…whether publicly or quietly…with big parties or simple moments of remembrance. Be real on this week’s post, and let’s free ourselves from the trap of comparing!

Comparison has never really been a problem with me as far as my grief.  I accepted early on that we are all different and it all comes at different times.  Where I struggle with comparison in my grief walk is seeing the support that other people get from friends and family.  I have wrote about it before so I wont really say much about it now...but it something that I really struggle with.  It's hard to see life long friends slip away when you need them most...and the words that come from family members sting like no other.

One thing I really struggled with in the "early" days was seeing pregnant women.  It was worse when they were really young mothers, were in really poor financial situations, already had a bunch of children, or were known to be poor mothers.  "Why is she being blessed with this gift and mine, who I prayed for for years, wanted so badly, and had loved so fiercely, was tore from within me?"  Some days I struggle with this...when I see a mother and daughter, when I go to a wedding, when I see little three year old girls.  I remind myself that if she were still here I wouldnt be who I am today.  It was a hard road, but I made some rather necessary changes to myself after loosing Vanessa.  Still.  It's just plain hard.

In the general sense...we are all guilty of comparing ourselves to other women.  Between sites like Pinterest and Facebook it's hard not too.  "So and So pinned this so they must be doing all these things."  Honestly, I dont do half the stuff I pin.  They are just ideas for the future in case I get bored and need something to do.  Women post on facebook about their child meeting this milestone or that, loosing weight, being pregnant, getting a promotion, taking a trip...it's easy to want what they have, compare ourselves to them or our children to theirs.  It's hard to remind ourselves that we are all different and kiddos develop at different rates.  God has blessed us each in different ways according to our needs and talents.  The lady getting the trip could probably really use the vacation...perhaps she's having trouble at work or the kids are stressing her out, and she just plain needs a break.  The family getting a promotion may need a new car, or have trouble paying their bills.  WHO KNOWS!  It's God's job to worry about WHY they are being blessed, and it is our job to be happy about for them...kick Satan and his harmful thoughts to the curb!  That can be easier said than done sometimes.

I got pregnant with my first son while still in high school.  I never finished my college degree.  I didnt even go to school for what I dreamed of doing.  I dont have a job. My husband is 30 and still in school with no job.  I am married with 2 (living) children and one on the way, and my family lives with my dad.  My husband struggles daily with narcolepsy and it can make him cranky and makes daily tasks hard for him sometimes.  Yeah, I compare my life to other's a lot.  But here is what I try to tell myself:

My oldest son gave me the strength and courage to leave a relationship that was not healthy.  I didnt go for school for what I always thought I would, and I did not finish, but I learned that my heart was at home with my children before wasting even more money on a degree I would likely never use.  I dont have a job because it would be pointless...all I made would go to childcare, taxes, and insurance...and I just plain function better when I'm home with my babies.  My husband loves me above anything else and he tries his hardest to help me out...he has amazing people skills and his professors are all so understanding and helpful with his disorder. He is an amazing man of God who loves his family and does all he can to care for us.  He has taught me more about my self and life in the past 8 years...Yes, I live with my dad.  If I moved out he would be the most lonely and miserable person on the planet.  We have a rather special relationship and we need each other.  At some point, hopefully in the distant future, I wont hear him come home from work  or get up in the morning to talk with him before he goes off to work.  Like my children, I will enjoy him while I have him.

It is so so hard to do, but we must remember WHY our lives are the way they are.  WHY did God give us THIS life and not another?  Because HE knows what we need and what we can handle.  It is up to us to trust Him and go with it.  We need to remind ourselves that all that comparison does is breed negativity and make us feel bad about ourselves.  Dont let the devil get a hand hold on your heart!  Kick that liar to the curb!

"Life's Trials Explained"

I was most excited to do the Walking With You series not only because it encourages myself and other momma's who come here to read, but also because it helps me feel closer to my little girl.  When that band aid gets ripped off, and the pain returns a bit, I find myself turning to God and drawing closer to Him again.  One thing that I have found that calms me and makes me feel better is listening to Charles Stanley.  He has a soothing southern voice, but not a drawl per say.  He explains things in such a simple easy to understand way.  I found a few current broadcasts of his that REALLY hit home with me.  He makes many good points about WHY we go through our struggles, how it's not always from God, how OUR reaction reflects on God....How we can take our struggles and  make something beautiful of it.  I dont want to say much about it, I want you to hear it from Pastor Stanley himself.  I dont know how to get the broadcasts on my blog, but here is the link to his broadcast page.  You want the ones from January 24th and 25th...Life's Trials Explained.  Each one is about 24 minutes long.  Hop back over here and tell me what you think!  His words rung so true, he had me in tears on more than one occasion.

Please keep me in your prayers this weekend.  I will be hosting a Thirty-One party on saturday to help raise money for Missing GRACE.  I would love to see a good turn out, but it doesnt look too good.  Please pray that I am pleasantly surprised, and that if not that God would grant me peace and I would not be too disappointed.  Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!

WWY: Week 4~Overcoming Guilt and Embracing Joy

One area so many mothers struggle with is guilt, especially those who experience the loss of a baby/child. We want to address this struggle in this post. It will help mothers quietly battling guilt for living life and experiencing joy to know they are not alone. Other moms silently battle this as well. Whether it is the startling first time you really laugh after losing your child, or whether you have experienced the healing balm of joy for years, share your thoughts on this week’s post.

Oh, yes.  

Guilt.

Guilt, Anxiety, Sadness....all that accompanies it.  Been there...done that.  A million times.

I have always been an anxious person.  I worry way too much about things, people, situations.  I read somewhere that 90 something percent of the things you worry about never come to pass, and I know this is true.  However, when I am RIGHT in the middle of what ever is going on that is causing my anxiety it doesnt matter.  That knowledge helps me get through, but it doesnt completely take away my fears.

Guilt.

When it comes to our loss I have a couple areas where I really struggle with guilt.  I think that most of you can relate...it plagues us all at one time or another.  In the beginning I struggled with the fact that it was ok to be happy.  If you arent already coming from the Sufficient Grace blog go here.  Kelly does a great job explaining why it is ok to be happy and joyful.  It takes time to get to that point where you can have fun again, but it WILL happen.  That's not saying there wont be moments where you are suddenly stricken with guilt again, but it gets easier to talk yourself out of it.  When I got pregnant so soon after we lost Vanessa (3 months) I struggled so hard thinking she would feel replaced.  I was so excited about the new life within me, but I didnt know whether I should be.  I didnt want her to think I had forgotten her.  She let me know she didnt.  I shared in a previous post about a dream I had one night that I was struggling.  I saw her beautiful face, older, but like the Bible says, in Heaven we will know each other.  I felt such joy at seeing her, but it was quickly replaced with guilt.  Did she know I was pregnant?  Was she mad?  Was she hurt?  Did she understand?  With an eye roll typical of a 13 year old girl, followed by an understanding smile, she said to me, "Seriously, mom?  I just want you to be HAPPY."  And with that I woke up to peace.  The kind of peace that only comes from God.  She knew, she was happy, and she wanted me to be too.  My guilt has never come back that strong, but that's not saying it's not reared it's ugly head.

After Daniel was born I struggled (and still do) with little things.  Well, really, I'm not sure that I would say I struggle...some days...mostly it is a life choice.  I CANNOT lay him down to sleep.  I do at night, but in my bed.  When he naps it is in my arms.  I carry him around where ever I go.  He sits on the counter while I cook or do the dishes, he helps me do house hold chores, he never leaves my side.  Why?  What if?  What if he died?  What about all those moments I never got with Vanessa?  I want to cherish each and every moment  I have with him.  It's hard for me to discipline him, but I do my best.  I go out of my way to try to understand him and be patient with him...all the things I DIDNT do with Luke, my first son, that I should have.  I dont want to live with regrets if something were to happen to him.  Each moment is a gift, and I strive to cherish it.  I often wonder how he and I will cope when the new baby comes.  I will do my best to just slip the new wee one right into our little nest.

Ah, there is another touchy spot right there...the new baby.  What if it's a girl?  Oh, yes, I would love a daughter.  Often I feel robbed and my heart aches thinking of all the things I missed out on, will miss out on.  I have had to remind myself quite frequently about that dream.  Yes, if it turns out that I am currently carrying a little girl I will be over the moon...No more will Easter dresses haunt me or weddings make me green with envy, but I have to remind myself that there will still be a hole.  There will still be a little girl I'm not buying a dress for, not dressing up, not watching walk down the aisle.  I remind myself that she wants me to be happy.  She understands.

You are not alone in this guilt walk.  I think every mother in our shoes feels it...cripe, EVERY mother feels it.  I think we just feel it more intensely because we feel we are fighting  for our children's very memory.  They wont be forgotten.  Not by you.  As long as you tell their story and how the journey has helped you, challenged you, molded and shaped you, they will never be forgotten.  Other's will remember too.  Be gentle with yourself.  You were not put here on this Earth to be sad ALL the time.  "Make a joyful noise!"  It's ok!

This Never Gets Easier

As most of you who read my blog know, this pregnancy is my second rainbow.  My pregnancy with my first rainbow was fairly uneventful, but of course, it was nerve wracking.  What pregnancy after loss isn't.  I expected it to be hard emotionally.  I will never forget the feeling of pure thankfulness and joy when my son was born and was healthy.  I cried so many happy tears in that delivery room.  I was afraid they would think I was nuts, but I explained the situation before hand.  Hopefully they understood!

I expected that would be it.  The rest of my pregnancies, if I was blessed with any, would be easy.  I had the "hard" one.  With any subsequent one it would be like my innocence was restored!  Ha!  Wishful thinking!

I have met so many women who have lost.  Women who lost their precious babies at 6 weeks, 12 weeks, 18 weeks, 22 weeks, 27 weeks, 33 weeks, 35 weeks...women who's babies were randomly lost at birth for unknown reasons or the cord was wrapped too tight...I used to think that once I got out of my first trimester I would relax.  That then became, "Once I get to 20 weeks I will relax."  I'm not quite there yet, but already I am thinking, "Once I get to 30 weeks I will relax."  Who am I kidding?  Ignorance is bliss.

I will relax when I am in labor.  Then I wont.  HaHa!  I will relax a little more when the doctor tells me it's time to push.  I will pray for it to all be over as the baby crowns...but will relax a little more when they say they see the head.  Finally, I will cry tears of relief, happiness, and thankfulness when that sweet little bundle is born, crying, healthy, and in my arms.  Until then I will pray.  I will pray and trust the One who takes care of me to also take care of my sweet unborn baby.

Walking With You~Steps Back Into Life

Share about your first steps back into life. What helped you survive in the world outside as you took those first tender steps? Are there still tender areas for you today, living in a world that doesn’t embrace or understand the loss of a baby/child? How do you cope with those struggles? What advice would you offer those new to this walk to encourage and bring hope? How has this changed for you from the beginning? If you are in early grief, what do you fear/struggle with as you try to navigate a new normal….life without your baby?

I have to say, this one is sort of hard.  I cant really remember taking steps back in...I was sort of thrown in very early.  However, there are very tender areas and I struggle daily with this world that doesnt seem to want to acknowledge that babies can die.  

We have recently gotten very involved in a local group called Hope and Hearts.  They work to raise money for the Missing GRACE Foundation. Each year we form a team and walk in our daughter's memory.  We do fundraising also.  Last year was our first time doing ANYTHING for our daughter and we got very little support.  We had a few people who joined the team, but none of them ended up showing.  We had a few family members donate, but not a whole lot.  It broke my heart.  I was expecting more family and a few of our close friends to support us, but no.  I just recently started fundraising for next year's event and so far, well, it's the same.  It really bothers me that people will ask me about my boys, come to their birthday parties with presents, but these same people are not there when I need to talk about my daughter...they cant spare $10 in her memory to help another family.  I want to scream, rant, cry....but it would not do any good.  I vent about it here.  I wont hurt their feelings here.  Yes, even with the pain they cause me I still try to spare their feelings.

I suppose one of the reasons why people are this way is that they dont know WHAT to do.  Maybe they themselves dont know how to handle it...still, it would be nice to at least be able to talk.  Let them know how I REALLY am.

Something I noticed immediately after we lost our daughter was that the more out spoken I was then the more that people opened up to me about their own losses   Yes, there were those who pushed me away, but there were also those who suddenly found the strength to process their own grief.  I found this to especially true in older generations.  Theirs was a time when such things were even more taboo than now...and were also more common.  I watched my grandma actually morn the children she had lost.  Yes, she had always talked about them, but I remember watching butterflies with her outside that summer and talking about our babies, heaven, and the wonder of God.  When our rainbow was born I named him after her son that was far enough along to find out the gender.  She cried.  I knew how much it would have meant to me to have a child in this world named in memory of my daughter and I was ecstatic to give her that gift.  She was my biggest critic and said some of the most hurtful things (different time and all) but I healed more with her than any other woman I know in real life.

One thing that I have learned over the past 3 years is that talking about my daughter makes me feel better.  It keeps her memory strong.  I dont want her to just be remembered in our little house.  I want everyone to acknowledge that she was here, whether they talk about her or not, I want them to know who she was and what she has done for me.  I want her to have a voice.  I want her to have her own sort of legacy.  I always include her when people ask about my children...I didnt always, but I learned that it just made me feel worse to NOT include her.  We do the memorial walk, raise money in her memory to help other families, and each summer when I plant my garden I think of her as I take care of it.    I plant flowers known to attract butterflies, and we light candles on her special days to remember her.  I am no longer silent, and, in turn, Vanessa is not silent.  Each time I speak her name I give her life.  

My advice to those new in the walk is to HOLD ON.  People will say hurtful things.  They will tell you to "get over it", "move on," and just plain ignore you.  Stand tall.  Dont be ashamed of your little one.  They are just as much a part of you as any living child that you do, or could, have.  Yes, it will be hard at times...but nothing in life that is worth doing is easy.  There is always a fight.  Fight for the memory of your child that they may have life.

Strawberry Jam

I was thinking about the post from this morning and my early grief and I remembered something else.  I dont think I have ever actually talked about this, but perhaps someone out there needs this silly little story of mine. It may be a bit graphic, but it is honest and from my heart.

Every Tuesday my grandma has a fish fry.  The whole family meets at her house and we enjoy fish that the men of the family have caught.  Mainly, perch...my dad has a boat on Lake Erie and he often takes the guys out fishing.  She serves up a wonderful home cooked meal and we all gather around the table to eat, laugh, joke, and tell about our weeks.  Among my favorite things she serves is home made bread and jams or jellies.  Strawberry is my favorite.

Jam, as some of you may know, still contains the seeds of the fruit from which it is made.

Just a few days after we lost Vanessa I found myself sitting at the table with my cousins, husband, oldest son, and my grandparents.  I remember the sun was shining outside.  Grandma and Grandpa started bringing in the food and sitting it out on the table.  Suddenly in front of me was a jar of strawberry jam.  It was red and had little seeds in it...fresh in my grief it looked like something other than jam.  All I could think about was all the babies who were miscarried and taken from their mothers by a D and C....all jumbled up in that jar.  I started to panic, ran from the room, the house....I slammed the door behind me and SOBBED in the garage. My heart broke all over again.  Waves of fresh grief washed over me again, again, and again. I really just wanted to be alone, but my husband was there within a few minutes.  His arms around me was more comfort than I realized I was capable of feeling at that moment.  I got it out of my system and went back in...and someone must have known because the jam was gone.  No one asked, no one spoke of it.  My cousins couldnt even look me in eye.  They talked to their plates.

The next week was the same.  It was months before I could sit by that jam and not tear up.  About the time I was able to eat it (you can imagine my horror watching the family eat it those first few months) we had went through the entire batch and it was on to something else.  It has been almost three years, but each week I STILL scan the table for a jar of strawberry jam...and there hasnt been ANY since that spring.

Walking With You Week 2~Clinging In The Pit

I'm so thankful to be able to join in for week 2 of the WWY series.  This weeks topic is one that is so hard to write about.  To go back to that place and remember what it was like.  The feelings and emotions were so raw.  It's interesting to go back, though, and see where God has pulled me from.  Dont lose hope.  "This too shall pass."

This week’s WWY topic ~ Clinging in the Pit

Whether or not you are new to loss, talk a bit about early grief. What was it like, clinging for hope in the pits of despair? What did you cling to for hope? How did you survive the early days? What helped? What do you wish you could share with someone new to this walk, clinging in the pit? If you’re in the pit, currently, share your struggles. What can others do to encourage you?

Ah, the pit.

I'm afraid there are STILL moments, almost 3 years later, that I feel like I am there.  It's not as all consuming...not as fresh...but it stings and burns.  It hurts.  But, these are fleeting moments and the time does not last days, weeks, months, as it first did.   I have a good cry, scare the pants off my husband, and then get on with things.  It's humbling to be forced to visit that place.

The first few days after we lost Vanessa are a blur.  I stayed as hopped up on Xanax as I could, but the doctor had only, wisely, prescribed me 4 pills.  Working in retail at the time I had to go back to work fairly soon.  Just a week or two was all I was allowed to take.  I worked both at Bath and Body Works and Aeropostale.  Bath and Body was just a pain because no one would look at me.  I walked in like a zombie, did my job, tried to be jolly with the customers (thankfully I was mostly doing stock or closing at this time) and I left.  I rarely spoke to co-workers.  Aero was another story.  The manager was a mother who, though she never spoke about it, I believe suffered a loss.  She was too kind toward me to not have.  You just get a vibe once you've lost about other moms.  The way they speak to you, look at you.  You know when they have been there.  There is a look of familiarity in their eyes when they see you on the brink of a break down.  I can remember making my rounds on the sales floor and a YOUNG mother would walk in.  I was so drawn to these babies.  All of them.  It was torture.  Here is a 16 year old girl with HER baby...and mine is gone.  I can remember a women walking in with a baby EXACTLY the age Vanessa would have been.  I asked her when her daughter was born...same day I lost mine.  With tears in my eyes I congratulated her and turned away.  The manager saw me, hugged me, and told me to take 5 in the back.  She must have said something to the other employee's because they cleared out when they saw me coming.

I started making Vanessa a blanket as soon as I found out I was pregnant.  When I started bleeding I began crocheting like mad.  The blanket is folded in half length wise, but this picture is as far as I got.  After I got home from the doctor that awful day I picked it up, finished the row I was on, and tied it off.  She would never get any bigger and neither would her blanket.  To this day, if you see me with this draped across my shoulders or wadded in my lap...it's not a good day.  Be gentle with me.  I have cried more tears into this blanket than anything else.  It was my comfort in those early days, and still is.  I dont feel so alone and empty with it.  With this blanket draped around my shoulders I feel as though God himself is holding me.  Of course, I know He really is, but I can physically feel his arms around me in a way.

Speaking of God, you are surely wondering where he plays a part in all this.  His is the biggest role in the story of my healing.  I wish I can say, like Kelly, that I read my Bible and clung to Him in that way, but I couldnt even look at my Bible.  The grief and all those unanswered questions were too strong.  Instead, I clung to the promises I already knew.

  God is always there. 

 God always in control of a situation.

  God is working EVERYTHING out for HIS good.

  God will always protect you.

  God will never lead you into something He wont carry you through.

There is a reason for everything God does.

I was mad at God.  I yelled at him, ranted, screamed, cried, and threw a fit like my 2 year old does.  My father took my most prized possession and he was going to hear about it.  Still, deep down, I knew He had a reason.  Just as I have a reason when I get onto my kids or make a rule, He has His reasons too.  I cried.  Hard.  On more than one occasion I know I scared my husband, but I couldnt help it.  It was like being in a really small row boat on the middle of Lake Erie in 8 foot waves.  The anxiety was overpowering.  Wave after wave would just crash on me.  About the time I thought I would be ok something would trigger it all again.  Last week I told you about the butterflies over the corn field.  I seen more butterflies that summer.  I thought at first it was because I was looking for them more, but I kept hearing the same thing over and over again from family and friends.  Many of them did not know how special butterflies were to me but I kept hearing from others about how they couldnt believe all the butterflies that spring and summer.

Slowly, I emerged...like a butterfly myself.  Just three months after we said to goodbye  to Vanessa we said hello to a new little one taking up residency in my womb.  I often wondered if it was all too soon, but she quieted those fears as well.  I very often thank God for allowing me those glimpses of her.  I NEEDED them.  Some friends were gone, those who either didnt understand, didnt want to understand, or who just couldnt deal with it all.  New ones took their place.  I joined many online communities and forged deep bonds with mothers who had been there.  I found a dear friend in a woman who said good bye to her son the same day I said good bye to Vanessa.  It has been wonderful to have someone going through the same steps at the same time.  Those who's walk was farther ahead than my own gave me hope that I would be ok.  There was light at the end of this...and my feelings and thoughts were normal.  Its so unfortunate that a lot of my closest friends are hundreds of miles away...but we make do with what we have.  

I remember after Daniel's birth I had a VERY hard time letting other people hold him or putting him down.  I would almost have a panic attack if someone held him longer than I was comfortable with.  He still naps in my arms and sleeps in my bed.  All I can think about is all those times I never got to hold Vanessa...or what if something happens to him...I'd never get those moments back.  Some would say he is spoiled.  I say he is well loved.

I have come to realize that my daughter's death had a purpose, and that has helped me heal.  In the pain of losing her I drew so much closer to God.  I let go of religion and learned who He truly was.  I have helped others fresh on this road.  I have cherished my children more.  I learned that IT can happen to you...and life really and truly is too short.  There are more important things than money and materialistic gain.  I quit my jobs.  All of them.  I became a stay at home mom and refuse to turn back.  My children wont always be in my arms and I intend to hold them each chance I get.  The thought of another getting those hugs is unbearable.  Thankfully the Lord has blessed us and we are able to make it work.  No we dont have much.  We often struggle to pay the few bills we have.  Yes, we live with my father. Yes, I have often doubted my choice....but at the end of the day we always make it.  God always makes sure we have enough.  I have faith for the future.  It is that faith in the future that has brought me out of my past...my deep, dark, past.  If God can reach down into that deep chasm and pull me up then there is NO WHERE he can't reach me.

15 Weeks with Rainbow #2

I have felt so much better this week!  I have energy!!!  It also helps that Landon went back to school this week..I dont know why, but I'm just not motivated to do much when he is home.  Daniel and I have whipped this house back into shape in record time!  I've been craving eggs in the morning, oranges of course, and anything with a gravy.  Chocolate too!  Luckily I have found some dairy and soy free chocolate that is SOOO good!  I also always want seafood and sour things.  VERY odd for me because I dont really care for either.  HaHa!  This kid is just all sorts of doing weird things to me!

On another note, I've really been missing Vanessa lately.  Not in a heart wrenching way...not to that level yet.  Just an ache.  She's always on my mind...I really want to get started doing fundraising for Hope and Hearts, but so far no one I've contacted has gotten back to me.  Not that I've really tried that hard yet.  Not with all the cleaning going on.  A blanket I'm making for a friend who is also pregnant is purple and green...two colors that have always made me think of Vanessa...I was making it for our baby, but it was just too much.  It is gorgeous yarn and I'm so thankful to get to make something with it...I just couldnt handle THOSE colors wrapped around another baby of mine.  Is that weird?

Walking With You Introduction

I am so excited to finally join up with Sufficient Grace Ministries and their Walking With You series.  I love reading other momma's stories and hearing about their journey.  It is so wonderful to have a community where we can share ALL about our babies!  Here is the link to the Sufficient Grace blog where you can link up with other's joining on this walk, or read the stories from other families.  Just a heads up, this posts mentions my rainbows and has pictures of me pregnant both with my angel and a current one of my pregnant with my second rainbow.



So this week is all about introductions.  Getting to know each other.

Hello, my name is Betty!  I live in Ohio and have three amazing boys who are 30 (my hubs), 8, and almost 2.  I am currently pregnant with my second rainbow.  Here is the story of my sweet Vanessa...

Before my husband and I were married we discovered we were pregnant.  I was shocked, scared....it was nuts.  I knew pretty much right away.  I debated about even taking a test I was so sure.  I got up early one morning and drove to wal-mart.  Before I even got out of the car the smell from the chinese restaurant at the opposite end of the shopping center made me sick...and I almost just turned around.  But I didnt.  When i got home, and the test was positive, I woke up my then finance and told him the news.  He cracked an eye, said, "I know." and went back to sleep.  

A few days later we went to tell my dad.  He asked me when we found out and I told him.  He looked a little shaken and told me he had to tell me something.  The morning I drove to get that test...He experienced something he said he will never forget.  He had JUST gotten saved, maybe a year, and was doing his devotions.  As he was praying he heard an AUDIBLE voice ask him, "Kenny, would you like a granddaughter?"  I asked him what his answer was and he said, "I heard the voice of God speaking to me...I was a little speech less!"  Haha!  And so we began our journey with our little girl.  

I started bleeding at about 5 weeks.  I started taking belly pictures to capture each moment.  I went to the doctor and was able to see a heart beat...at just 5 weeks.  She was measuring RIGHT on and had a good strong heart beat.  The doctor could see where the bleeding had come from, but was very confident since the heart beat was so good.  We called her our "Peanut."  This ultrasound is the first one pictured above.

At 6 weeks I was still bleeding and went to the ER.  A "missed Miscarrige."  That did NOT make me feel good.  I was sent home and told to take it easy.  My doctor gave me progesterone suppositories to try.  I remember the panic as I would go to the restroom an hour or so later and there would be this clump with the blood.  I would freak out thinking I had lost the baby.  My poor husband would have to come into the bathroom with a spoon and dig it out of the toilet...after which we would stand around it trying to figure out what it was.  i couldnt live with the thought of flushing my baby down the toilet.  Come to find out it was the capsule from the prometrium.  Ugh.  We have good laugh over that one now.  I had cravings...hash browns cooked in butter and medium well done steaks.  Odd because I am a VERY well done type of girl!  We often joke that it was cholesterol poisoning that did our little one in.  Obviously not, but it serves as a good warning!

At 7 weeks we were still bleeding.  On the night of April 12, 2010 as my husband was putting my son to bed I had a severe cramp.  I knew.  I could feel her life slipping away.  I told my husband and we called the doctor first thing the next morning.  As I was sitting in the office Kelly Clarkson's "All Ready Gone" was playing.  I felt as though my daughter was singing to me.  Look it up on youtube and listen to it in that way.  Oh, i still cant hear that song.  Anyway, We were called right back to the US room.  The tech looked so serious and after just a few minutes she got up and brought the doctor in.  He looked no happier.  I will NEVER forget the look on his face or his tone of voice.  "I'm so sorry.  I cant find a heart beat.  The baby is measuring a week behind and there is NO heart beat."  I lost it.  I was given the pictures from the scan and told I could take them if I wanted, or leave them.  It was such a hard decision.  I ultimately walked out with them...and I'm so thankful I did. 

 The doctor was upset because he wanted to do a D&C THAT day...right then, but the hospital said it wasnt his day in the OR.  He went round and round with them but they would not let him in.  I didnt understand his urgency.  No big deal.  We will do it tomorrow.  My husband begged some xanax out of him (i have aweful anxiety) and we were sent on our way to do pre-registry stuff at the hospital.  Over and over they asked me the date of my last period...and over and over again I broke down.  They apologized and I struggled to remember the dates.  I started to dread a new person being introduced because it meant that question again...another smack in my face.  More salt in my wound.  All the blood work was done, papers filled.  All I had to do was show up.  We picked up my perscription (I STILL have a hard time getting things filled there), and went home.  We made phone calls.  "What happened?"  "It's all for the best. "God has a reason." "Maybe something would have been wrong with it."  "Better now than later."  "what did you do?" I silently thanked God for the xanax.

The next day I knew why the doctor had been so urgent to do the surgery.  My husband had to practically DRAG me to the hospital.  They were about to take away all that I had left of my daughter.  She was gone, but her tiny little body was still inside me...and they wanted to take it away.  I was given an IV laced with Valium.  I burned right through it.  Before they took me in I started to panic and told them they were going to have to give me something stronger.  The nurse smiled and already had what she called a "cocktail' made up for me.  Apparently it was Valium, a form of Xanax, and a start to the sedative the doctor was using in the OR.  This was my first surgery as well.  My husband assured me I wouldnt even dream.  I would just go to sleep and then wake up in recovery.  By the time I was wheeled into the OR I was cracking jokes at the doctor.  He laughed at me and helped me onto the table...and got me off to sleep....where I dreamed.

I dreamed.  When I close my eyes I still see it.  It's sunset on Grace Bay on Turks and Caicos.  The sunset is behind me.  It's beautiful though.  I can see the colors a little in front of me even.  I feel so at peace.  Beside me is my son and another little boy I didnt know...but I met him again at the birth of my rainbow.  The older he gets the more I see that other little boy on the beach.  My oldest son and I are strolling, holding hands.  In front of us, down the beach just a bit is a little girl running.  She has brown hair the color of my momma's, wavy like my MIL'S.  It bounces as she almost skips along.  I tell my son, "perhaps this is all for the best.  THAT one would have been trouble!"  We share a laugh and she turns to look over her shoulder, never stopping.  She smiles at me and my breath catches...she looks nearly identical to a picture I have seen of my momma when she was younger, but yet I see my husband in there too.  She smiles and looks right at me.  Time freezes for just a second.  And then I woke up.

I was calm.  There was a nurse there and she almost looked scared expecting a rush of emotions.  I calmly asked her for a drink of water and my husband.  She brought me both.  I was allowed to change and asked to leave.  They said I had to stay at least half an hour...they prefer longer but I seemed to be tolerating everything fine.  While we waited my husband told me he had looked at baby names while I was in surgery.  Vanessarah.  Vanessa and Sarah.  Butterfly Princess.  It was perfect, but really?  We settled on Vanessa and went home.  

Oh, it was hard.  I cried, a lot.  I blamed myself, I blamed God, I blamed everyone and everything I could think of.  I spent HOURS outside crying to God.  WHY?  WHY? WHY?  I watched as butterflies danced and skimmed over the corn field behind our house.  I broke down.  My husband was at my side.  In a very weak moment I stood in my back yard and cussed out the butterflies.  She was just like them.  So beautiful and perfect.  Dancing and skipping, so full of joy. And then they scamper off.  Just like that.  Taking their perfect joy with them, they leave.  Now my anger was even directed at my sweet girl.  I was a mess.  But slowly I healed.  I started seeing more joy and happiness in little things.  I leaned on God more.  Yes, I had lashed at him, but through it all, even when I didnt WANT to believe, I clung to the promises I knew in my heart to be true...and they got me through.  I cherished my son  more.  I learned what it felt like have the entire world ripped out from under me...and to still be standing.  I often think of Natalie Grant's "Held".  I learned to not take life, health, people, places for granted.  I loved more deeply.  I cared more.  I tried more.  I also now knew that if God could bring through that..He would see me through ANYTHING.  I knew I had a lesson to learn.  God does NOTHING without a purpose.  I was to be patient and find it...and I have found many.  If nothing else, I can now help others who are feeling so alone as their world crashes down.

That time in the OR was not the only time my daughter has visited me.  Sure there are butterflies who get closer than they used too...flowers, mainly white roses...the smell haunts me some days.  But a few weeks after I found out I was pregnant with my rainbow (just three months later...and married :)) I was having a really rough time.  Would she feel replaced?  Would she think I didnt love her?  That I wasnt strong enough and was trying to forget her?  I was plagued.  I felt such extreme guilt.  Until one night.  In the dream, she was older.  Older than me.  Around 30.  Instantly I knew it was her though.  She was surrounded by white fluffy clouds and she was radiant.  She smiled at me sweetly and instantly the feeling of guilt rose up inside me.  Just as quickly she rolled her eyes at me, looking every bit like a teenager, and then smiled so knowingly at me.  She said, "Mom.  Seriously.  It's OK.  I just want you to be happy."  I woke up...in peace.  And that guilt has NEVER plagued me since.  Every once in a while I will catch a women in my dreams that I cant quite place, but I KNOW I know her.  She smiles at me so coyly.  Ornery almost.  As soon as I wake up it hits me...and I laugh and roll my eyes.  She is still there.  She still visits.  She knows I need her. 

Me freshly pregnant with Vanessa

  She will be celebrating her 3rd angel day on April 12 of this year. She has medium length brown wavy hair, green eyes like my mother, my smile.  My husbands skin tone and hair.  She is a spitfire...full of energy and life.  She has a laugh like the sound of wind chimes, and she loves to play little tricks.  She's ornery like her younger brother.  Above all else, I know with my entire heart that she loves me.  She spends each and every day watching over me and making sure that I am happy.

I am currently pregnant with our second rainbow.  I would LOVE to tell you that this pregnancy has been easier to deal with emotionally, but it hasnt.  At least this time I'm not riddled with guilt over being happy.  We decided to NOT find out the sex of this baby, but I have a very strong feeling that it is a girl.  God always sends us just what we need...and I am missing nothing else here on earth.  Not to mention I seem to be carrying different than I did the boys.  Here is a shot at 14 weeks.  I'm so thankful for the path that God has carried me through.  I have learned so much about myself, about life, about relationships, and about family.  I am a stronger person...who cries more.  I cherish my children so much more.  I wish I had known the things with my first son that I know now.

My grief should not be fresh, but some days it still feels that way.  I still have days where I stand at my kitchen window and let the tears roll.  I have a special cry that only comes out when I'm missing her.  My husband doesnt even ask anymore.  He unfortunately has learned the sound of a mother's heart breaking over and over.  You know, I used to be AFRAID of going to Heaven.  The thought of a never ending eternity scared me.  Now, well, I cant wait!  I long for my Lord to come call me home.  Not only will I finally get to see the One who has carried me through so much, but my family will be whole.  I will embrace my daughter...and thank her.  I know they say there will be no tears in Heaven, but I think there will be.  Happy ones.

14 Weeks with Rainbow #2

How far along? 14 Weeks

Total weight gain/loss: At last check it was 2 pounds, but my scales are broken.  

Maternity clothes? Of course.

Stretch marks?  Yes...some new ones this pregnancy!

Sleep: Getting as much as I can.  Daniel is still nursing and we have been sick

Best moment this week: Date with Landon and Daniel!  We had a great time just goofing around town.

Movement:  Some wiggles at night time and morning.

Food cravings: Sweets, chocolate, oranges

Anything making you queasy or sick: Taking my prenatals in the morning.  If I do too much I get dizzy.

Have you started to show yet: Oh, yes!

Leakage: Yes 
Gender prediction: Girl?  I've been getting girl a lot.  I'm carrying differently.

Labor Signs: No, thankfully.

Belly Button in or out?: In, but looking funny.

Wedding rings on or off? On

Happy or Moody most of the time: I'm going to say happy!

Weekly Wisdom: Get rest when you need it...the laundry will wait!  Your husband can help with the kids.

Walking with You

I am so excited!  Kelly with Sufficient Grace Ministries has put together a series of topics to help BLM's explore not only their own walk, but also to help us share our stories and experiences.  I can't even begin to tell you how helpful it can be to read another mom's post who has been honest in her feelings and brave in her writing.  So many times it is helpful for someone else.  Yes, we all grieve differently, but there are similarities.  You arent the only one to have ever felt a certain way at a certain time.  Reading these posts helps you to now feel so alone in your walk...and writing them helps you remember the path you have traveled, and realize just how far you have come.  I adore this community I have unfortunantly found myself a member of.  Kelly is such a great woman and has helped so many (myself included!)  I direct all the ladies that come to me with new stories of loss to her.  She has an incredible love for Christ and is never shy about sharing how He has helped her.


Here is the link to her blog.  The series is called Walking With You, and starts next monday and will be held each monday for six weeks.  Feel free to follow along...if you feel led to jump on in any day!  We would love to hear from everyone!