"Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. It is good for a man to bear the yoke while he is young." -Lamentations 3:21-27
It has been on my mind how I have heard from many well intentioned people "You're so strong" or some form of that statement numerous times in the last month and a half. I just feel it is important to give credit where credit is due. It is because of my faith, my husband's faith, my family's faith that I am making it through each day, one day at a time. Just as many people can't fathom what it is like to lose a child or how to cope with such a loss, I can't imagine how people who don't share the hope Isaac and I have cope. I have read other women's stories and/or talked with them in person and can honestly say I just hurt for them knowing they and their family's don't have hope in Jesus. It has become so clear to me that they can't possibly find any sense of comfort in such a tragic loss. I feel sad because they don't believe or understand that they will get to be reunited with their babies one day and will no longer feel pain or suffering. The hope I have by no means lessens the sadness I feel on a daily basis, but it is helping me go one day at a time, bringing me closer to the day when I will hold my Olivia again.
I do still question God's decision to take Olivia. In talking with Isaac about our thoughts of the day recently, he brought up how he was feeling strongly on his heart that we ARE God's children and just as we question our parents here on earth, we do the same with God. As children it is hard to always believe your parents "know what's best". This is why we cling to HOPE. "For you did not receive a spirit that makes you slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father". The spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs--heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory."- Romans 8:15-17. God knew us before we were born, he knows every detail about us and knows the paths our lives' will take. We will not understand many things in this lifetime- like the loss of a child, so why wouldn't we look to the one who can provide hope and comfort when no one else can, the one whom I am getting my "strength" from.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Revelation 21:4
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." - Revelation 21:4
There have been a lot of tears shed on my part this past week. Going back to work has been a struggle. Being a visiting nurse, there is a lot of time spent in my car driving throughout my work day. I find that this is allowing me a lot more time to just think about my daughter and miss everything I won't get to share with her. It seems that this week has been a "back to reality" kind of week. I think up until now I've been walking around, mostly in a fog, periodically realizing what has truly happened in our lives'.
This week, I've been struggling with really knowing the loss of Olivia is real, and I hate it. We are almost to the official due date of our daughter and the emotions seem to be getting more difficult. Several nights this week I've woken up with some pretty awful anxiety, and in talking about it I haven't been able to put into words what it is I'm anxious about. So I will try in writing it out. I wake up and start thinking "did this really happen?" I start thinking this whole entire thing can't possibly be real, that I didn't just go through 8 months of pregnancy. Then something tells me that yes, I most definitely did, and I'm hit with so many emotions, I can't slow them down and just focus on one feeling at a time. I think back to when we first found out we were expecting, and when we found out we were having a baby girl. I think about how we originally wanted to name her Chloe, but then announced the change in name. I think of just the ordinary days of being pregnant, excited to meet our baby. Then I realize all of that is over and we had to meet and say goodbye to her all at once. Then I get so frustrated and so sad and wonder "why" we had to lose her. My heart is so broken. I know this has changed who I am.
Some night's I give in to the anxious feelings and reach for the pills I was prescribed after losing Olivia partly because I'm just too tired to be laying awake but mostly because I just want to sleep and not think. Other night's I try to focus myself on thinking about heaven and how Olivia will never have to suffer. I have so many questions and curiosities about it now. I've never thought so much about heaven in the past, even after the loss of other loved ones'. I guess that is the mom in me, wanting to know about Olivia's life and surroundings. Probably on a daily basis I say to Isaac "can we just die now please" and he lovingly asks me to rephrase what I'm saying to "can Jesus just come again please". The promise of Revelation 21:4 is something I've never looked forward to more.
There have been a lot of tears shed on my part this past week. Going back to work has been a struggle. Being a visiting nurse, there is a lot of time spent in my car driving throughout my work day. I find that this is allowing me a lot more time to just think about my daughter and miss everything I won't get to share with her. It seems that this week has been a "back to reality" kind of week. I think up until now I've been walking around, mostly in a fog, periodically realizing what has truly happened in our lives'.
This week, I've been struggling with really knowing the loss of Olivia is real, and I hate it. We are almost to the official due date of our daughter and the emotions seem to be getting more difficult. Several nights this week I've woken up with some pretty awful anxiety, and in talking about it I haven't been able to put into words what it is I'm anxious about. So I will try in writing it out. I wake up and start thinking "did this really happen?" I start thinking this whole entire thing can't possibly be real, that I didn't just go through 8 months of pregnancy. Then something tells me that yes, I most definitely did, and I'm hit with so many emotions, I can't slow them down and just focus on one feeling at a time. I think back to when we first found out we were expecting, and when we found out we were having a baby girl. I think about how we originally wanted to name her Chloe, but then announced the change in name. I think of just the ordinary days of being pregnant, excited to meet our baby. Then I realize all of that is over and we had to meet and say goodbye to her all at once. Then I get so frustrated and so sad and wonder "why" we had to lose her. My heart is so broken. I know this has changed who I am.
Some night's I give in to the anxious feelings and reach for the pills I was prescribed after losing Olivia partly because I'm just too tired to be laying awake but mostly because I just want to sleep and not think. Other night's I try to focus myself on thinking about heaven and how Olivia will never have to suffer. I have so many questions and curiosities about it now. I've never thought so much about heaven in the past, even after the loss of other loved ones'. I guess that is the mom in me, wanting to know about Olivia's life and surroundings. Probably on a daily basis I say to Isaac "can we just die now please" and he lovingly asks me to rephrase what I'm saying to "can Jesus just come again please". The promise of Revelation 21:4 is something I've never looked forward to more.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Phillipians 4:19
"And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus" Phillipians 4:19
I sit here now writing this after a very long week. We took a family vacation to Maine, and enjoyed time with some of Isaac's family. This vacation was emotional but also just what we needed for our relationship as a couple. A lot of personal struggles came to a head and since then (yes in just a few short days) we have been able to confront them and move in the right direction. Adversity, in our case the loss of our daughter always brings out the worst in all of us. I will share some of what is going on, only in an effort to hopefully help any other person who reads this and finds themselves' in the same boat.
I had been struggling with understanding how my husband, Isaac could be coping so well with the loss of Olivia. I would ask him how he was feeling/doing and he would simply tell me he talks to Olivia throughout his day, just trusting that she's with him. I began to think, ok maybe this is how a dad copes, that maybe, just maybe it's not as difficult for the dad to lose a baby. I was really trying hard to suppress my feelings of resentment. It was when family asked how we were doing and he responded "Great!" that I knew, that at the right time I needed to say something to him, that I couldn't stand hearing that. I wondered how he could be doing great, because I certainly am not.
Then we'll fast forward some, in talking with each other, Isaac revealed he was in fact, not doing great, and that he was keeping it all to himself. His desire was to protect me, an innate desire, and let me have my own time to grieve. We have since sought help for what we are facing and realize we have a lot of work to do as a couple to better communicate with one another. Communication is afterall how relationships survive. I believe, we as a couple have chosen to live out what it says in Ephesians 16:10&11 "Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes." Satan has a way of attacking when he sees people walking close with the Lord. We just need to be better prepared to attack back.
Also weighing heavily on my mind and heart- I'm heading back to work tomorrow. This time last year, I returned to work with a yearning to get home everyday to my newborn Cole. This year, I don't get to return home to my 2 children like I should be. Right now, I would give anything to be returning to work, leaving he and Olivia at home. I guess, sitting here writing this, I have a new perspective about having to be a full-time working mom. Working and raising your children is a wonderful blessing when you get to come home to your kids, all of your kids.
I am very much dreading the questions and comments from patients who knew I was pregnant. I'm fearful of the comment that brings me to tears or fills me with anger. I'm most fearful of the feeling I have that by returning to work, I'm somehow moving on or that people view it as that. I know so many people think we will or should move on, but the truth is, we will not. We will just to choose to continue living. That emptiness will always be there.
I sit here now writing this after a very long week. We took a family vacation to Maine, and enjoyed time with some of Isaac's family. This vacation was emotional but also just what we needed for our relationship as a couple. A lot of personal struggles came to a head and since then (yes in just a few short days) we have been able to confront them and move in the right direction. Adversity, in our case the loss of our daughter always brings out the worst in all of us. I will share some of what is going on, only in an effort to hopefully help any other person who reads this and finds themselves' in the same boat.
I had been struggling with understanding how my husband, Isaac could be coping so well with the loss of Olivia. I would ask him how he was feeling/doing and he would simply tell me he talks to Olivia throughout his day, just trusting that she's with him. I began to think, ok maybe this is how a dad copes, that maybe, just maybe it's not as difficult for the dad to lose a baby. I was really trying hard to suppress my feelings of resentment. It was when family asked how we were doing and he responded "Great!" that I knew, that at the right time I needed to say something to him, that I couldn't stand hearing that. I wondered how he could be doing great, because I certainly am not.
Then we'll fast forward some, in talking with each other, Isaac revealed he was in fact, not doing great, and that he was keeping it all to himself. His desire was to protect me, an innate desire, and let me have my own time to grieve. We have since sought help for what we are facing and realize we have a lot of work to do as a couple to better communicate with one another. Communication is afterall how relationships survive. I believe, we as a couple have chosen to live out what it says in Ephesians 16:10&11 "Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes." Satan has a way of attacking when he sees people walking close with the Lord. We just need to be better prepared to attack back.
Also weighing heavily on my mind and heart- I'm heading back to work tomorrow. This time last year, I returned to work with a yearning to get home everyday to my newborn Cole. This year, I don't get to return home to my 2 children like I should be. Right now, I would give anything to be returning to work, leaving he and Olivia at home. I guess, sitting here writing this, I have a new perspective about having to be a full-time working mom. Working and raising your children is a wonderful blessing when you get to come home to your kids, all of your kids.
I am very much dreading the questions and comments from patients who knew I was pregnant. I'm fearful of the comment that brings me to tears or fills me with anger. I'm most fearful of the feeling I have that by returning to work, I'm somehow moving on or that people view it as that. I know so many people think we will or should move on, but the truth is, we will not. We will just to choose to continue living. That emptiness will always be there.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Romans 8:28
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" Romans 8:28
Yet again today, I've learned of another woman's story. I'm overwhelmed by all of these (far too many) stories. I hurt for myself and my family, but with each story I hear, I hurt for these women and their family's. I also feel a connection to them, whether it was they themself who told me of their experience or through someone else (and please do keep the stories coming).
I will never understand why I've been handed this struggle, but I know for sure it has changed my worldview. Now, I find that whether I'm in a store, doctor's office or sitting at a stop light I think about the people I'm around and wonder what he/she might have been through in his/her life or what he/she may be about to face. I've always known that not everyone's life is perfect, but I have a whole new understanding of this. When I see women with or without kids, I wonder if she too has an angel in heaven.
It is far too easy to only think of oneself or one's own family in the culture we live in and move through life with this perspective. I know it is God who has changed me. I do not like the sadness I now have in my life or the emptyness I feel, but I am determined to be more aware of those around me and make my daughter proud of her mama as she looks down on me (afterall, how many moms can say they have their kids with them at ALL times)- I love you Olivia Taylor.
Yet again today, I've learned of another woman's story. I'm overwhelmed by all of these (far too many) stories. I hurt for myself and my family, but with each story I hear, I hurt for these women and their family's. I also feel a connection to them, whether it was they themself who told me of their experience or through someone else (and please do keep the stories coming).
I will never understand why I've been handed this struggle, but I know for sure it has changed my worldview. Now, I find that whether I'm in a store, doctor's office or sitting at a stop light I think about the people I'm around and wonder what he/she might have been through in his/her life or what he/she may be about to face. I've always known that not everyone's life is perfect, but I have a whole new understanding of this. When I see women with or without kids, I wonder if she too has an angel in heaven.
It is far too easy to only think of oneself or one's own family in the culture we live in and move through life with this perspective. I know it is God who has changed me. I do not like the sadness I now have in my life or the emptyness I feel, but I am determined to be more aware of those around me and make my daughter proud of her mama as she looks down on me (afterall, how many moms can say they have their kids with them at ALL times)- I love you Olivia Taylor.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Isaiah 58:11
"The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." Isaiah 58:11
Yesterday we met with my OB for follow up (I'm not quite sure why they make mother's of stillborn babies sit in the waiting room with very pregnant woman). All lab results have come back "normal" as well as the pathology report of the placenta. We have been told that clinically they do believe our loss of Olivia was from an abruption despite no physical evidence on the placenta. In some small way, this makes me feel better to have some kind of answer, even if I will never be able to accept the outcome.
I have hit some really low days in the last week, feeling on the verge of being depressed, which I am convinced is a normal part of my grieving. Some days I just feel like being alone. I have discovered in myself that I have been trying to avoid "normal" social activities. I am not in a place that I feel like being around casual conversations and would prefer to avoid any awkward conversation or stupid comments. (I do realize people mean well, but the majority of society has no clue how to relate to this kind of loss, therefore often say stupid things in an effort to comfort.) When I say stupid things, I mean comments like "God always has a plan", "At least you're ok and nothing happened to you too", "You can have more children", "You'll get though this". Yes, I know God has a plan. I am thankful nothing happened to me, although I have had the occasional thought that it would have been ok if something did (yes my husband is aware of this thought). I'm sure we probably can have more kids and somehow we will choose to get through this, but those comments aren't comforting. It has taken me the last month to figure out what is helpful and I will share it because I have been asked numerous times what is comforting. A listening ear because quite frankly I want to talk about my daughter and show her picture. I want her to be remembered. Also of comfort is to be able to talk with other people who have gone through this- which I realize leaves out a lot of concerned people in our lives'. If I am able to take anything from dealing with this, I hope to be a comfort to woman who come after me, woman who like me have to face this kind of hell.
This Friday, the 11th was the day in my mind that we would meet our little girl. I would have been 37 weeks pregnant, medically full term and considered safe to deliver a baby. It is hard for me to understand how our Cole is so healthy, never had any complications in utero, labor and delivery or after being born, but I was so sick while pregnant with him. I remember laying in bed while I was so ill and worrying that something would be wrong with him, however the thought of him dying never crossed my mind. I just thought he would be sick in some way. This pregnancy was much smoother sailing, I did everything to try and prevent the problems I had while pregnant with Cole. Yes I had asthma trouble again, but it was controlled all along. Two weeks before getting the horrible news of Olivia's passing I had finally decided with my doctors encouragement that I needed to stop work to help prevent those complications I had while carrying Cole. My deciding factor (because I'm a very stubborn person) was that "I need to do this, I can work my whole life, but right now the health of this child is the most important and absolutely invaluable." Again, never imagining death as an outcome. I will add however, that as bizarre as it sounds it was as if my heart knew something my brain didn't want to think about during this pregnancy. Up until April 7th I didn't have that same excitement to go buy everything for my expected baby like I had while expecting Cole. I would think to myself "well don't buy that yet, what if you don't need it, just wait." Mother's intuition or God preparing me for what I was going to face?
Aside from the sadness I feel from losing my child, I am sad that I now have such a scared outlook on pregnancy. Stillbirth is not something you hear much about and even if you do, you think of it as something that happened years ago before modern, advanced medicine. Now, it is the first thing I think of when I think of pregnancy and this just plain sucks.
Yesterday we met with my OB for follow up (I'm not quite sure why they make mother's of stillborn babies sit in the waiting room with very pregnant woman). All lab results have come back "normal" as well as the pathology report of the placenta. We have been told that clinically they do believe our loss of Olivia was from an abruption despite no physical evidence on the placenta. In some small way, this makes me feel better to have some kind of answer, even if I will never be able to accept the outcome.
I have hit some really low days in the last week, feeling on the verge of being depressed, which I am convinced is a normal part of my grieving. Some days I just feel like being alone. I have discovered in myself that I have been trying to avoid "normal" social activities. I am not in a place that I feel like being around casual conversations and would prefer to avoid any awkward conversation or stupid comments. (I do realize people mean well, but the majority of society has no clue how to relate to this kind of loss, therefore often say stupid things in an effort to comfort.) When I say stupid things, I mean comments like "God always has a plan", "At least you're ok and nothing happened to you too", "You can have more children", "You'll get though this". Yes, I know God has a plan. I am thankful nothing happened to me, although I have had the occasional thought that it would have been ok if something did (yes my husband is aware of this thought). I'm sure we probably can have more kids and somehow we will choose to get through this, but those comments aren't comforting. It has taken me the last month to figure out what is helpful and I will share it because I have been asked numerous times what is comforting. A listening ear because quite frankly I want to talk about my daughter and show her picture. I want her to be remembered. Also of comfort is to be able to talk with other people who have gone through this- which I realize leaves out a lot of concerned people in our lives'. If I am able to take anything from dealing with this, I hope to be a comfort to woman who come after me, woman who like me have to face this kind of hell.
This Friday, the 11th was the day in my mind that we would meet our little girl. I would have been 37 weeks pregnant, medically full term and considered safe to deliver a baby. It is hard for me to understand how our Cole is so healthy, never had any complications in utero, labor and delivery or after being born, but I was so sick while pregnant with him. I remember laying in bed while I was so ill and worrying that something would be wrong with him, however the thought of him dying never crossed my mind. I just thought he would be sick in some way. This pregnancy was much smoother sailing, I did everything to try and prevent the problems I had while pregnant with Cole. Yes I had asthma trouble again, but it was controlled all along. Two weeks before getting the horrible news of Olivia's passing I had finally decided with my doctors encouragement that I needed to stop work to help prevent those complications I had while carrying Cole. My deciding factor (because I'm a very stubborn person) was that "I need to do this, I can work my whole life, but right now the health of this child is the most important and absolutely invaluable." Again, never imagining death as an outcome. I will add however, that as bizarre as it sounds it was as if my heart knew something my brain didn't want to think about during this pregnancy. Up until April 7th I didn't have that same excitement to go buy everything for my expected baby like I had while expecting Cole. I would think to myself "well don't buy that yet, what if you don't need it, just wait." Mother's intuition or God preparing me for what I was going to face?
Aside from the sadness I feel from losing my child, I am sad that I now have such a scared outlook on pregnancy. Stillbirth is not something you hear much about and even if you do, you think of it as something that happened years ago before modern, advanced medicine. Now, it is the first thing I think of when I think of pregnancy and this just plain sucks.
Friday, May 4, 2012
2 Corinthians 12:9
"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Corinthian's 12:9
My current struggle: mothering my 14 month old. Somedays I find it so difficult to put on a happy face and entertain my toddler. I realize he doesn't understand all that has happened. However, at times I do make an attempt to talk to him about it, to talk to him about Olivia, his baby sister who he will not get to play with and make laugh.
There are moments during the day and somedays there are whole days where I just feel like I would love to escape, to be alone, just so I can grieve, probably sob for an endless amount of time. Then I am reminded by "mamamamamama" or "hewo" or a whine that I am needed to be present and appear happy and in the moment. I still have a child who needs me to care for him, to meet his every need. I am so very thankful for my little boy, but at the same time he reminds me of what I won't get to see Olivia do. Just as he is a blessing in my life, he is a constant reminder of my loss, the missing piece in my life.
At times during my worst days, he sees me well up with tears, which to him probably appears to be for no reason. He gets clingy when this happens, the confused look well displayed across his face. My first reaction is frustration because sometimes, when you're grieving you just need space, but then I'm filled with a motherly instinct to just scoop him up and adore him.
I imagine mothering multiple children can be challenging, trying to find a balance to meet all of their needs. My struggle is different, I am the mother of 2, one who is with me and the other who is constantly on my mind, but only lives in my heart. My little boy cannot understand my need to give his sister attention, through grieving or spending time reflecting on her real existence to our family.
My current struggle: mothering my 14 month old. Somedays I find it so difficult to put on a happy face and entertain my toddler. I realize he doesn't understand all that has happened. However, at times I do make an attempt to talk to him about it, to talk to him about Olivia, his baby sister who he will not get to play with and make laugh.
There are moments during the day and somedays there are whole days where I just feel like I would love to escape, to be alone, just so I can grieve, probably sob for an endless amount of time. Then I am reminded by "mamamamamama" or "hewo" or a whine that I am needed to be present and appear happy and in the moment. I still have a child who needs me to care for him, to meet his every need. I am so very thankful for my little boy, but at the same time he reminds me of what I won't get to see Olivia do. Just as he is a blessing in my life, he is a constant reminder of my loss, the missing piece in my life.
At times during my worst days, he sees me well up with tears, which to him probably appears to be for no reason. He gets clingy when this happens, the confused look well displayed across his face. My first reaction is frustration because sometimes, when you're grieving you just need space, but then I'm filled with a motherly instinct to just scoop him up and adore him.
I imagine mothering multiple children can be challenging, trying to find a balance to meet all of their needs. My struggle is different, I am the mother of 2, one who is with me and the other who is constantly on my mind, but only lives in my heart. My little boy cannot understand my need to give his sister attention, through grieving or spending time reflecting on her real existence to our family.
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