"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!