Casey and I attended Nancy and David Guthrie's retreat a little over a week ago. I have not had the chance to write about it, but Ruth, a wonderful mom we met at the retreat, blogged the experience here pretty well.
Monday, September 10, 2012
The Empty Space
We felt it deeply today.
That hole in our hearts.
The constant feeling of dread as if we forgot something really important.
Sometimes I call it the empty space. The place she should be.
Sitting next to her big brother for family photos. On my chest in her wrap as we strolled through the amusement park. Winning smiles and hand claps from perfect strangers and doting grandparents.
I see her everywhere. It is amazing how the absence of someone so small can be so encompassing.
It doesn't hurt so much anymore to see babies and observe little girls with their mothers. I can even look on them and smile for a distant memory, a ghost of my lost hopes. Occasionally, however, a pair of chubby cheeks and a pink headband can cut deep into my wound and I am left a bleeding crumpled mess.
I know that people sense something amiss behind my faltering smile. It makes them uncomfortable. Sometimes I crush their sense of security and tell the truth, but usually that's not what they want to hear and I'm left feeling penitent and injured. So, I put on my game face and talk my way around it.
For instance...
Everywhere is dangerous.
I've been living in fear. A novel could be written on what frightens me. I check on Isaac at night like I did when he was an infant, just to make sure he is still breathing.
In the early days of grief I remember a terrible dream that will always haunt me. I was putting Isaac down for a nap and trying to get him to stay in bed and fall asleep while I sang him lullabies, only we were in the cemetery and his "bed" was a fresh grave.
I see death and injury at every turn. It would be easy to let fear take control of me, of my life and of my family, but what is easy is rarely what is right.
I find that I have to make a choice. I can stay at home and bar the doors and windows from the outside world and all the hurt it holds, or I can embrace my pain, look for purpose in Lilly's little life, and use it to become a better person.
So now, when the danger of being swallowed by fear and anxiety is at it's highest, I must choose to let it go.
She has changed my world. She changed me.
I am not who I was.
Our friends comment on how strong we are and often seem uncomfortable when we falter in spirit or faith.
Plainly speaking, we are not strong. We did not wish this. God did not use this to display our strength, He gives us strength by His grace because we are weak and we need Him! I have found God in the most unlikely places and have come to accept His goodness in spite of my despair. Only by His grace could I have found such strength.
Too well do I know those groans. My heart and soul lament when I feel that empty space. At times it takes every bit of my energy just to finish the grocery shopping or make it to my car after work before the darkness overtakes me, and at others I break down in front of strangers or get sent home early because I cannot function in "normal society" any more that day.
I just, miss her. In the deepest, truest form of the words.
My love is stretched on heart strings from this world to the next and I am overwhelmed with sadness when I feel the tug that reminds me that this world is not my true home.
I'm not saying that I want to scare off every old lady who asks when we plan to have more children, but I don't want to live in a world of little lies just to make sure everyone is comfortable. I think sometimes we need a little discomfort. Too long have we hushed up unpleasant news and denied our unseen children.
(It's time to #SayItOutLoud! indiegogo.com/stillproject)
My Prayer...
That hole in our hearts.
The constant feeling of dread as if we forgot something really important.
Sometimes I call it the empty space. The place she should be.
Sitting next to her big brother for family photos. On my chest in her wrap as we strolled through the amusement park. Winning smiles and hand claps from perfect strangers and doting grandparents.
I see her everywhere. It is amazing how the absence of someone so small can be so encompassing.
It doesn't hurt so much anymore to see babies and observe little girls with their mothers. I can even look on them and smile for a distant memory, a ghost of my lost hopes. Occasionally, however, a pair of chubby cheeks and a pink headband can cut deep into my wound and I am left a bleeding crumpled mess.
I know that people sense something amiss behind my faltering smile. It makes them uncomfortable. Sometimes I crush their sense of security and tell the truth, but usually that's not what they want to hear and I'm left feeling penitent and injured. So, I put on my game face and talk my way around it.
For instance...
Lady - "He's so cute, how old is he? Is he you're only one?"
Wound open, bleeding.
Me - "No we have two. Isaac is two and a half and my daughter was born in February."
Wavering smile plastered to my face. Confused smile back. As I watch her try to do the math and see the next question forming on her lips, I suddenly remember Isaac hasn't gone potty for a while or I really need to show Casey something across the shop.
Everywhere is dangerous.
I've been living in fear. A novel could be written on what frightens me. I check on Isaac at night like I did when he was an infant, just to make sure he is still breathing.
In the early days of grief I remember a terrible dream that will always haunt me. I was putting Isaac down for a nap and trying to get him to stay in bed and fall asleep while I sang him lullabies, only we were in the cemetery and his "bed" was a fresh grave.
I see death and injury at every turn. It would be easy to let fear take control of me, of my life and of my family, but what is easy is rarely what is right.
I find that I have to make a choice. I can stay at home and bar the doors and windows from the outside world and all the hurt it holds, or I can embrace my pain, look for purpose in Lilly's little life, and use it to become a better person.
So now, when the danger of being swallowed by fear and anxiety is at it's highest, I must choose to let it go.
7 For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. 8 So do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner. Rather, join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God. 9 He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, 10 but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. 11 And of this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher. 12 That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet this is no cause for shame, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day. (2 Timothy 1:7-12 NIV)
She has changed my world. She changed me.
I am not who I was.
Our friends comment on how strong we are and often seem uncomfortable when we falter in spirit or faith.
Plainly speaking, we are not strong. We did not wish this. God did not use this to display our strength, He gives us strength by His grace because we are weak and we need Him! I have found God in the most unlikely places and have come to accept His goodness in spite of my despair. Only by His grace could I have found such strength.
[God] said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ ....For when I am weak, then I am strong” (See 2 Corinthians 12:9-10)
...the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. (Romans 8:26)
Too well do I know those groans. My heart and soul lament when I feel that empty space. At times it takes every bit of my energy just to finish the grocery shopping or make it to my car after work before the darkness overtakes me, and at others I break down in front of strangers or get sent home early because I cannot function in "normal society" any more that day.
I just, miss her. In the deepest, truest form of the words.
My love is stretched on heart strings from this world to the next and I am overwhelmed with sadness when I feel the tug that reminds me that this world is not my true home.
Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your Hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God (Psalm 42:5)Sometimes I just need to talk about Lilly because she is still my daughter, even if you cannot see her.
I'm not saying that I want to scare off every old lady who asks when we plan to have more children, but I don't want to live in a world of little lies just to make sure everyone is comfortable. I think sometimes we need a little discomfort. Too long have we hushed up unpleasant news and denied our unseen children.
(It's time to #SayItOutLoud! indiegogo.com/stillproject)
My Prayer...
Lord, give me the courage to speak your truth and shine with your light, despite the darkness that surrounds me. Though at times I feel dead, help me to live on through you. Fill in the empty spaces in my life as only you can and give me the strength to endure till I can finally be with you and my beautiful baby girl again. I cannot fathom your ways Lord, but I love you for you have shown your love for me.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Letting Go
Have you ever really thought about what it means when we say God is in control? Anyone who really knows me will tell you that one of my biggest flaws is my inability to let things go. I have an incredible knack for picking even the most mundane things apart to find out "why" it happened that way and will argue to the death to prove my point. (Sorry Casey!) What happened with Lilly is no exception. Believe me I have spent night after sleepless night going over and over every event of her very short life. I blame myself, mostly, but I find some flaw in the midwives, nurses, doctors, ultrasound technicians, you name it. "If they had paid more attention, got me back sooner, been more concerned with some test" on and on and on. And of course "I should have gone to the hospital sooner, made them get her out sooner, prayed literally without ceasing" are there as well. Everyone tells me it is not my fault, God chose her...us for a reason we cannot understand. I'm sure I will always search for "Why" but somewhere somehow I am beginning to understand. I am a control freak about making sure my kids are loved and taken care of in the best way possible and it terrifies me to think that no matter what I do, I am not in control.
http://withoutwax.tv/2008/04/28/rocked-to-my-core
This link tells the story of Angie and Todd Smith who lost their baby girl in April of 2008. Angie carried little Audry, knowing that she would die. It is an incredible story that inspired her book I Will Carry You as well as her blog "Bring the Rain" at angiesmithonline.com. We have shared a couple of emails, and after watching this video I sent this response...
Loss like ours forces you to bare your soul and come to conclusions about questions you didn't know you had. When life is normal and running smoothly you don't question the things you believe are constants. In my head I'm sure it was something vague like "Of course I believe God is in control. I believe He is real and I want His will to be done in my life. I will always believe in Him no matter what and nothing will ever change that." When Lilly died I began to question my own beliefs. Not so much as to whether I believed them anymore, although that was part of it, but why do I believe them? Because Mamma and Grandpa said so? Because the Bible, ancient books written by men, tells me so? If God is real and really loves me and works all things together for my good (Romans 8:28), then where was he when we called out to Him night and day for my baby girl?? How could He take her, knowing that it would destroy me? If He loves me how could He be so cruel? I like how one grieving mother said "my earthly father would never do such a thing".
I look back on the last six months and I can see how far we have come. There was a time I believed I would never smile again. I thought I would never again find pleasure in any form of life. There were times I thought I would never be able to take care of my own son without help because I couldn't function well enough to even remember if I had fed him yet that day. It is not by my strength that I have come this far. Before Lilly, I used to think I was so strong and courageous, but truly I am weak and any acclaim belongs solely to the Lord.
I believe in Him because He is real in my life. He is the voice that tells me I am good enough to love. His arms hold me together and put Hope in my heart. Not just of heaven but Hope of life, Hope of light, Hope for humanity. He "steadies my heart". He is the thing that lives in my heart and gives me the strength to endure another day. I am not this strong. Without Him I would be dead. Without Him who could endure this world and it's crushing sorrows? Without Him, no one is in control. Without Him, life really is chaos. And that would be truly terrifying.
http://withoutwax.tv/2008/04/28/rocked-to-my-core
This link tells the story of Angie and Todd Smith who lost their baby girl in April of 2008. Angie carried little Audry, knowing that she would die. It is an incredible story that inspired her book I Will Carry You as well as her blog "Bring the Rain" at angiesmithonline.com. We have shared a couple of emails, and after watching this video I sent this response...
Dear Angie,
Thank you so much for the ministry you continue to do through your blog. Tonight I stumbled upon the video "Rocked To My Core" and I am just so moved by it! There are similarities in our stories and it blesses me to be able to relate to another mother, when I have felt so very alone and misunderstood. I too remember rocking my Lilly in her last moments repeating over and over "even now Lord I know you can heal her...now is the time to show the world who you are...." and yet moments, perhaps seconds, before Jesus took her I told her "it's OK baby, you can go be with Jesus now, you don't have to stay for us"...
Lilly was full term, no complications until mid-labor. I had such a horrible hospital experience with my son I was trying to labor at home and possibly deliver if things went well. When my water broke there was meconium and we went straight to the hospital where I was in triage for an hour before they rushed me back for an emergency c-section. My husband, family, even my therapist has tried to tell me it was not my fault, that it was a part of God's plan, nothing I did could have changed the outcome. I want to believe it but I have struggled SO much with the guilt... ("If only I had gone to the hospital sooner. What was I thinking trying a home birth? Why didn't I pray harder? I must not have been close enough to God or He would have healed her. Am I responsible for my daughter's death?")
It is hard for me to grasp that He is in ultimate control. As it seems we have similar personalities, for I too have a wicked Italian side, I think you might understand that. However, how you, without a doubt, said there is no plan B...it gave me the "ah-ha" moment I have been searching for. I don't know if it's just hearing it from another lost baby's Mama or what, but I burst into tears and knew, in that moment at least, that it's true. This was God's plan from the start. I cannot understand it, how this can work together for my good, but I know deep in my heart that it's true. Not because I need it to be, not because it's something pretty I can tell myself to make me feel better, but because it is truth. God the Father is in control, so what have I...what have we to fear? It feels so good to say it and mean it!
Loss like ours forces you to bare your soul and come to conclusions about questions you didn't know you had. When life is normal and running smoothly you don't question the things you believe are constants. In my head I'm sure it was something vague like "Of course I believe God is in control. I believe He is real and I want His will to be done in my life. I will always believe in Him no matter what and nothing will ever change that." When Lilly died I began to question my own beliefs. Not so much as to whether I believed them anymore, although that was part of it, but why do I believe them? Because Mamma and Grandpa said so? Because the Bible, ancient books written by men, tells me so? If God is real and really loves me and works all things together for my good (Romans 8:28), then where was he when we called out to Him night and day for my baby girl?? How could He take her, knowing that it would destroy me? If He loves me how could He be so cruel? I like how one grieving mother said "my earthly father would never do such a thing".
I look back on the last six months and I can see how far we have come. There was a time I believed I would never smile again. I thought I would never again find pleasure in any form of life. There were times I thought I would never be able to take care of my own son without help because I couldn't function well enough to even remember if I had fed him yet that day. It is not by my strength that I have come this far. Before Lilly, I used to think I was so strong and courageous, but truly I am weak and any acclaim belongs solely to the Lord.
I believe in Him because He is real in my life. He is the voice that tells me I am good enough to love. His arms hold me together and put Hope in my heart. Not just of heaven but Hope of life, Hope of light, Hope for humanity. He "steadies my heart". He is the thing that lives in my heart and gives me the strength to endure another day. I am not this strong. Without Him I would be dead. Without Him who could endure this world and it's crushing sorrows? Without Him, no one is in control. Without Him, life really is chaos. And that would be truly terrifying.
Psalm 27
1 The Lord is my light and my salvation—
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?
4 One thing I ask from the Lord,
this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
and to seek him in his temple.
5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent
and set me high upon a rock.
this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
and to seek him in his temple.
5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent
and set me high upon a rock.
13 I remain confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
14 Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord.
I will see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
14 Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Dear Lilly
Today marks six months since the day you were born into this world. I would love to be able to look on your milestones with joy in my heart, but I am full of sorrow and pain. I just cannot see how He can turn these ashes into beauty. I am blessed with an abundance of friends and family who try to lift me up and remind me that in Christ there are no goodbyes, and I believe it to be true. But the waiting...every moment of my life I play the events of the day we celebrate today over and over again. If only I could go back, change something, make a different decision somewhere that would give us a different outcome. One where you are alive and in our arms. In my arms....they are so empty without you. I do not take for granted how amazing Isaac is and how incredibly lucky I am to have him, but I cannot ignore he is growing so quickly these days and that longing for another baby is crushing because you should already be here. Oh how mommy wanted you! I prayed so much for you and I struggle to understand how my loving Father could say no when we begged for your healing. I suppose He has a purpose I cannot understand. A few months ago I would have scoffed at such a statement. Either I am growing desperate for justifications or I am coming to understand just how much He really is in control.
Psalm 139
1 You have searched me, Lord,
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
We brought you balloons today. I wanted to do something special to mark the occasion, but this seemed to be all we could handle and spent the day together at home talking about and missing you. Even Isaac gets sad sometimes and asks about you. He wanted to be your big brother so much. I know he feels your absence. I was folding laundry this week and caught myself staring at his little "undies" and thinking of what a big boy he is now. Six months is more than a quarter of his life and yet there are so many gaps, I don't know how much I have missed. Where have I been? Death has stolen one child from me and now grief and depression threaten to take the other as well. I won't let them. I made a promise that I will see you again, my Lilly, and now I must promise that I will not neglect your brother while I search for you. I love you both so much! It is difficult to be torn between two worlds. I know you are well taken care of, by our family as well as the Savior, but I can't let you go. I still carry so much guilt. I am so desperately sorry. I would give anything, do anything, anything to get you back! I miss you cannot begin to cover how I feel, but there are no words in this language to say how my heart feels.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand —
when I awake, I am still with you.
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand —
when I awake, I am still with you.
19 If only you, God, would slay the wicked!
Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!
20 They speak of you with evil intent;
your adversaries misuse your name.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, Lord,
and abhor those who are in rebellion against you?
22 I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!
20 They speak of you with evil intent;
your adversaries misuse your name.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, Lord,
and abhor those who are in rebellion against you?
22 I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
I pray that the Lord cover you in Love. May angels sing you lullabies and Christ Himself kiss your sweet face. (God tell her all about her Mommy and Daddy and Big Brother. Show her how much we love her and what life might have been like with us.) I pray that you are warm, happy and safe, surrounded by family and friends. I am full of pain in this world, but I am so proud to be your mommy. Every single second of every minute of every hour of every day....I miss you, think of you and Love you! I look toward the day I can hold you in my arms again! (Titus 2:13)
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