Sorrow is one of those things that are lent, not given.
A thing that is lent may be taken away;
a thing that is given is not taken away.
Joy is given;
sorrow is lent.
We are not our own,
we are bought with a price...
[Our sorrow] is lent us for just a little while
that we may use it for eternal purposes.
Then it will be taken away
and everlasting joy will be
our Father's gift to us,
and the Lord God will wipe away
all the tears from off all faces.
-Amy Carmichael
This was taken from the book, I Will Carry You; A Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy, written by Angie Smith. It was a book that carried me through the days after losing Elliott. It is a wonderful story written by a Christian woman of her journey through losing a child of her own. She interwove scripture throughout the entire book, while never once holding back her truest emotions that she experienced in the darkest days. This book gave me a new perspective on life and helped me refocus my thoughts on God through my journey of loss.
I referred back to this book last night when I got home from my family's Christmas. The emotions of losing Elliott were intense and I just needed a source of comfort. I read many of the Bible verses throughout the book and then came across the above quote from Amy Carmichael. "Then it (sorrow) will be taken away and everlasting joy will be our Father's gift to us". Last night I just continued to reflect on this line. Everlasting joy. Everlasting joy. It isn't attainable in this world, but there is a promise of it and for that my hope is kept alive. As the grief of losing Elliott just crept up on me last night and the tears ran down my cheeks I couldn't help but smile at the thought of the last line in this excerpt, "the Lord God will wipe away all the tears from off all faces". Thank you Lord. Thank you.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Beginning the Search
Since I have been feeling our little guy move around quite a bit lately, I have become more comfortable with starting to plan for his arrival. Ashley and I have been talking quite a bit about names for our little boy. I never knew it could be so difficult! We generally agree on most names one of us comes up with, but there are just so many. Some days we have 5 top boy names and then the next we have 15. There are still a few that have stayed at the top of the list, but making a commitment to that one name is so hard, especially because the next day we usually come up with another name we like. We even try calling our baby a certain name and wait a little bit to see if he will start kicking, thinking maybe it will give us a clue. I know that is silly, but we just can't make up our minds knowing that this name will stick with him for the rest of his life. We are certain we will use one of two middle names that have meaning in our life, so a lot of our discussion is in conjunction with what first name sounds good with one of those two middle names.
Ashley and I also spent some time the other night looking at baby stuff. There are so many types of things out there and I have no clue where to start. What type of cloth diapers do people suggest? What is the best type of car seat/stroller? What are must buys and what items are unnecessary? Any mothers out there who want to give me input, feel free to, its a little overwhelming. Thanks!
Ashley and I also spent some time the other night looking at baby stuff. There are so many types of things out there and I have no clue where to start. What type of cloth diapers do people suggest? What is the best type of car seat/stroller? What are must buys and what items are unnecessary? Any mothers out there who want to give me input, feel free to, its a little overwhelming. Thanks!
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Rejuvenated
Last night Ashley and I "got away". Sean was at an overnighter with the youth group so Ashley and I decided we needed a break from the worry and stress that had been consuming us the past few weeks. However, we didn't want to spend much money and we couldn't leave for too long because we had no one to watch our dog, so we got on the priceline website and booked a hotel in South Bend for an eighth of the actual price. Thirty minutes later we had a small bag packed and we checked into a hotel in the area. We closed the curtains, pretended we were in Chicago and then we ordered some pizza, played games, and watched Christmas movies on TV. As silly as it sounds, it was amazing.
As we left the hotel today we both talked about how much we needed a break. It seems that in combination with the worry about our baby; the holidays always seem to consume us. We worry about getting the perfect gift for everyone in the family, we worry about making sure our house is clean and food is prepared for our guests, and we are also reminded of who is no longer with us this year. This last one can be physically and emotionally crippling at times because the holidays are a time we celebrate with our family and friends and there is an obvious hole at the table or around the Christmas tree. Ashley and I know all too well the pain of losing loved ones, but as I reflect on the holiday season this year, I don't want my mourning to overshadow the enjoyment I could have with the loved ones still here. Yes, I think it is very necessary to remember our loved ones who aren't here, but I also want to celebrate the fact that we still have family and friends surrounding us.
So I'm thankful for a night where I could rejuvenate and re-prioritize my thoughts this holiday season. As I remember Elliott, my mother-in-law and the other loved ones I have lost, I am also very thankful for the many blessings I have been given this year. One being the little boy that is currently kicking away inside of me. But most importantly I want to remember that I am incredibly blessed to be able to celebrate the birth of our Savior knowing that God wouldn't have sent His Son to be born on this earth if He didn't love us more than we can fathom.
As we left the hotel today we both talked about how much we needed a break. It seems that in combination with the worry about our baby; the holidays always seem to consume us. We worry about getting the perfect gift for everyone in the family, we worry about making sure our house is clean and food is prepared for our guests, and we are also reminded of who is no longer with us this year. This last one can be physically and emotionally crippling at times because the holidays are a time we celebrate with our family and friends and there is an obvious hole at the table or around the Christmas tree. Ashley and I know all too well the pain of losing loved ones, but as I reflect on the holiday season this year, I don't want my mourning to overshadow the enjoyment I could have with the loved ones still here. Yes, I think it is very necessary to remember our loved ones who aren't here, but I also want to celebrate the fact that we still have family and friends surrounding us.
So I'm thankful for a night where I could rejuvenate and re-prioritize my thoughts this holiday season. As I remember Elliott, my mother-in-law and the other loved ones I have lost, I am also very thankful for the many blessings I have been given this year. One being the little boy that is currently kicking away inside of me. But most importantly I want to remember that I am incredibly blessed to be able to celebrate the birth of our Savior knowing that God wouldn't have sent His Son to be born on this earth if He didn't love us more than we can fathom.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Peace
My husband preached a sermon today about peace and how our fears hinder our ability to fully rest in God. My greatest fear right now is losing my baby, but my fear is stopping me from trusting God fully. I want to completely trust God, but I can't because I won't allow myself to fully give up my fears to Him. Matthew 11:28 says, "Then Jesus said, 'Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.'" Ashley said in response to this verse that, "God wants us to rest in His promise, that we are worthy of His love, that He hears our prayers, and that He knows the desires of our hearts...God is here."
In the past year there were many times I questioned whether God heard my desperate prayers and whether he knew the true desires of my heart, but I questioned Him because I didn't fully understand that trusting God doesn't mean I get what I think is best, it means that I trust he knows what is best for me. Honestly, I needed to walk through those dark valleys in this past year to fully appreciate what I am blessed with now. I needed to lose a son, to completely love another one. I needed to learn how to rely on God, so to fully understand He is here...every day...every step of this pregnancy. In the past few days I have been reminded of this with the simple kick of a foot on the inside of my stomach by my little boy. God's little miracle growing inside of me and God reminding me ever so subtly, that He is here.
In the past year there were many times I questioned whether God heard my desperate prayers and whether he knew the true desires of my heart, but I questioned Him because I didn't fully understand that trusting God doesn't mean I get what I think is best, it means that I trust he knows what is best for me. Honestly, I needed to walk through those dark valleys in this past year to fully appreciate what I am blessed with now. I needed to lose a son, to completely love another one. I needed to learn how to rely on God, so to fully understand He is here...every day...every step of this pregnancy. In the past few days I have been reminded of this with the simple kick of a foot on the inside of my stomach by my little boy. God's little miracle growing inside of me and God reminding me ever so subtly, that He is here.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Guarded
When I lost Elliott, a friend of mine gave me a memory box to put cards, ultrasound pictures, and meaningful items in. It sits on my dresser and occasionally I will sit on my bed with a box of kleenex and look through everything I placed inside it the month surrounding my miscarriage. The kind words written on cards and the ultrasound pictures always bring tears to my eyes, but I am thankful I have this memory box so I can remember Elliott. Ashley and I had never gotten to the point in my first pregnancy where we had bought or been given anything for Elliott, but for that I am thankful. I often think of those families who lose babies further along in their pregnancy and how they probably had the nursery painted, the crib assembled, and the closet full of clothes. How does anyone even begin to put away those things? What do you do with everything that was never used?
As I progress further along in this pregnancy I can't seem to get past the emotional wall I have put up regarding preparing for and buying stuff for my little baby. I know I am still early on, but I am so afraid to even think about buying anything, because what happens if I never get to use it? It seems easier to stay guarded than to let myself enjoy dreaming of nursery colors, buying a little pair of socks, or talking with Ashley about names. If anyone knows me, this isn't my personality. I like to plan ahead and be prepared, but honestly I just can't. I went shopping with my mom today and we decided to look at some little boy clothes and as fun as it was to hold up the tiny sweaters and corduroy pants, I now sit here in a funk because I don't want to let myself get excited like I did this afternoon. But the truth is, my heart is already completely in love with this baby, so whether I let myself get excited or not, I will be devastated if I lose my baby boy. I have to remember, that I can't live life expecting the worst because then I will never enjoy it. So for now I think I will just take slow and steady steps toward preparing for our baby and maybe someday when I am actually holding him in my arms I will finally fully let my guard down.
Below is another ultrasound picture from my last appointment. Isn't his nose cute?
Below is another ultrasound picture from my last appointment. Isn't his nose cute?
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Unrecognized Mothers
After I lost Elliott, I realized how taboo of a subject it was to talk about losing a baby or struggling with infertility. About a week after I found out that Elliott had died, but before I actually miscarried, I decided to go out to eat with a group of people. It had been a week of pure despair and I convinced myself that dinner with friends would bring a little bit of joy into my world. As the group of us sat at dinner, there was a very uncomfortable silence and the unspoken "elephant in the room" was obviously regarding my baby. As I forced back tears the entire meal, I kept hoping someone would just say something. I mean, these were supposed to be my friends, but no one could even muster the courage to say, "I'm sorry". It wasn't that I wanted the attention on me, because that was the last thing I wanted. It was that at that moment in time I needed someone to say they cared. Eventually the topic came up and one person said, "Oh, I don't want to talk about that". I will never forget those words because at that moment I was determined to change how I react to people who are going through difficult times. Needless to say, I left dinner in tears, but I also learned the importance of talking about that "elephant in the room".
As the weeks went on following my miscarriage I still had many awkward moments where people just didn't say anything to me when I expected them to. However, I had to keep reminding myself that just a month ago I would have been reacting the same way if my friend or co-worker had lost a baby. I think it is safe to assume that anyone that has not lost a loved one, especially a baby, or isn't close to someone who has, does not realize the importance of talking about that child. As mothers we want validation that our child was "someone" in this world. We long for people to recognize that our hearts are broken and that we are mothers, despite not having a child on this earth to prove it. I think this too goes for women who can't have children. Deep down I know that every female has a desire to be a mom and when they can't, then that pain is just as deep as those who have lost a child. Just a few weeks ago, I was talking to a lady in her 50's about her struggle with infertility. The numerous conversations we had before this night she had always joked about how she wouldn't have been a good mom. But that was a coverup, because as we talked on a more personal level, tears came to her eyes as she shared her desire to be a mom and how it never happened. My heart just broke for this lady and it made me realize that the pain never really goes away.
So with this being said, I encourage everyone to step past their insecurities and to open their hearts and eyes to those people who are unrecognized mothers, whether they have lost a child or can't have children. We want to talk and we want people to realize that despite not being a mother to a physical being in this world, we are mothers in our hearts. My dearest friends never even flinched when talking about Elliott, and they still comfortably bring up his name when we hang out. They are a rare group of girls that took my pain into their own hearts and have shared in that burden of loss with me. I will forever me indebted to them for not shying away from something awkward and taboo to talk about. And I encourage everyone to follow their example because I know there are many women (more than people realize) that are hurting deep down in their hearts because their desire to be a mother is more than they can handle alone.
As the weeks went on following my miscarriage I still had many awkward moments where people just didn't say anything to me when I expected them to. However, I had to keep reminding myself that just a month ago I would have been reacting the same way if my friend or co-worker had lost a baby. I think it is safe to assume that anyone that has not lost a loved one, especially a baby, or isn't close to someone who has, does not realize the importance of talking about that child. As mothers we want validation that our child was "someone" in this world. We long for people to recognize that our hearts are broken and that we are mothers, despite not having a child on this earth to prove it. I think this too goes for women who can't have children. Deep down I know that every female has a desire to be a mom and when they can't, then that pain is just as deep as those who have lost a child. Just a few weeks ago, I was talking to a lady in her 50's about her struggle with infertility. The numerous conversations we had before this night she had always joked about how she wouldn't have been a good mom. But that was a coverup, because as we talked on a more personal level, tears came to her eyes as she shared her desire to be a mom and how it never happened. My heart just broke for this lady and it made me realize that the pain never really goes away.
So with this being said, I encourage everyone to step past their insecurities and to open their hearts and eyes to those people who are unrecognized mothers, whether they have lost a child or can't have children. We want to talk and we want people to realize that despite not being a mother to a physical being in this world, we are mothers in our hearts. My dearest friends never even flinched when talking about Elliott, and they still comfortably bring up his name when we hang out. They are a rare group of girls that took my pain into their own hearts and have shared in that burden of loss with me. I will forever me indebted to them for not shying away from something awkward and taboo to talk about. And I encourage everyone to follow their example because I know there are many women (more than people realize) that are hurting deep down in their hearts because their desire to be a mother is more than they can handle alone.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Tears of Joy
Exactly one year ago today I had my first ultrasound with Elliott. I was 6 weeks along and we saw his little heartbeat and the doctor said everything looked great. Unfortunately, as I described in my earlier posts, Elliott only lived a few short weeks longer. But to this day I am still grateful for that brief moment where I saw God's wonderful creation living in my womb. Today I went for another ultrasound and there it was again, a steady lub dub of our little baby's heart, but this time 10 weeks further along. As I laid there with cold gel on my stomach a tear slid down my cheek out of pure relief and joy. I was reminded as I cried tears of joy seeing my baby, how much more God sheds tears of joy seeing his children. I often forget that I am a child of God and he loves me more than I could ever love my child.
Due to a uterine abnormality the doctor is watching me closely for preterm labor, so this is the third ultrasound I have had so far this pregnancy. Honestly, the thought of preterm labor scares me, but I wouldn't get rid of my uterine abnormality for the life of me because due to this condition I have been able to glimpse into my baby's world three times in 16 weeks. If something happens now, as it did with Elliott, I will at least have these memories of seeing my baby. While the technician took measurements, I just kept staring at the screen and thanking God that our baby was alive. We saw the baby kicking its feet and trying to suck its thumb and at that moment I finally fully gave my fears up to God (and took a deep breath). He is in control.
So there is one more big announcement to this entire ultrasound adventure. Please see below.
Due to a uterine abnormality the doctor is watching me closely for preterm labor, so this is the third ultrasound I have had so far this pregnancy. Honestly, the thought of preterm labor scares me, but I wouldn't get rid of my uterine abnormality for the life of me because due to this condition I have been able to glimpse into my baby's world three times in 16 weeks. If something happens now, as it did with Elliott, I will at least have these memories of seeing my baby. While the technician took measurements, I just kept staring at the screen and thanking God that our baby was alive. We saw the baby kicking its feet and trying to suck its thumb and at that moment I finally fully gave my fears up to God (and took a deep breath). He is in control.
So there is one more big announcement to this entire ultrasound adventure. Please see below.
Again as you can see God was faithful in bringing Sean into my life to prepare me in parenting a boy! Growing up with two sisters I never really understood boys, but in 16 years when this little guy is a teenager I will feel like a pro (maybe).
Monday, December 6, 2010
Expecting Blessing Number Three
Yes I can count and no I didn't leave part of my story out in my previous posts. We are expecting our third blessing, another child. The first was Elliott because even though he never made an impact on this world to others, he made an imprint on our hearts. The second blessing was Sean, despite the fact I didn't personally bring him into this world, he is now my child. And the third blessing is little baby Swanson, whom I am now carrying. For 16 weeks this sweet little baby has been inside my womb growing and forever making an impact on my life. Ashley and I found out we were blessed with this baby on Sean's 18th birthday. How fitting to celebrate one child's birthday and another child's beginning of existence to this world.
I'm not going to lie, despite the excitement of being pregnant again, the fear has overwhelmed me many days. The fear of losing another baby has gripped me more times than I can count. Every time I wasn't nauseous, every time I had a small twinge of pain, and every time I remembered Elliott, I was quick to forget that "the Lord is my God". But as my blog is titled after David Crowder's song, "You Never Let Go" I am constantly reminded that God never lets go, whether I am walking through joy or pain. God will prove to be faithful no matter the outcome of this pregnancy and for that I am forever grateful.
One of the reasons I started this blog, was not to just share my story, but to be conscientious of those who have lost babies themselves. One of the most difficult things in the months following the loss of Elliott, was opening my facebook feed and reading post after post about others being pregnant. Whether it was pure joy they were experiencing, or complaining about an "annoying" symptom of pregnancy, it would ruin my mood every time and set me back several steps I thought I had taken in the healing process. This made me realize that I too was unaware of the pain I caused others when I announced my pregnancy with Elliott on facebook. And I'm not saying people can't do this, but due to the pain I experienced, I have decided to start this blog as an update for family and friends who want to hear of my progress and see pictures, instead of posting it on facebook. I want unrecognized mothers and woman who can't get pregnant to know that I'm aware of their pain and their sorrow and that I don't take this pregnancy lightly or for granted. Every day I realize how blessed I am to be given a second chance to carry a little miracle of God and every day I realize that carrying Elliott for 14 weeks was more than some woman experience in their lifetime.
So below is my third blessing. Here he/she is at 10 weeks. Tomorrow I have the chance to get another ultrasound and see God's little miracle through the glimpse of amazing technology.
I'm not going to lie, despite the excitement of being pregnant again, the fear has overwhelmed me many days. The fear of losing another baby has gripped me more times than I can count. Every time I wasn't nauseous, every time I had a small twinge of pain, and every time I remembered Elliott, I was quick to forget that "the Lord is my God". But as my blog is titled after David Crowder's song, "You Never Let Go" I am constantly reminded that God never lets go, whether I am walking through joy or pain. God will prove to be faithful no matter the outcome of this pregnancy and for that I am forever grateful.
One of the reasons I started this blog, was not to just share my story, but to be conscientious of those who have lost babies themselves. One of the most difficult things in the months following the loss of Elliott, was opening my facebook feed and reading post after post about others being pregnant. Whether it was pure joy they were experiencing, or complaining about an "annoying" symptom of pregnancy, it would ruin my mood every time and set me back several steps I thought I had taken in the healing process. This made me realize that I too was unaware of the pain I caused others when I announced my pregnancy with Elliott on facebook. And I'm not saying people can't do this, but due to the pain I experienced, I have decided to start this blog as an update for family and friends who want to hear of my progress and see pictures, instead of posting it on facebook. I want unrecognized mothers and woman who can't get pregnant to know that I'm aware of their pain and their sorrow and that I don't take this pregnancy lightly or for granted. Every day I realize how blessed I am to be given a second chance to carry a little miracle of God and every day I realize that carrying Elliott for 14 weeks was more than some woman experience in their lifetime.
So below is my third blessing. Here he/she is at 10 weeks. Tomorrow I have the chance to get another ultrasound and see God's little miracle through the glimpse of amazing technology.
As one of my dear friends said when she saw this, "he looks so relaxed". I am glad my baby is relaxed, because I will admit my fear of another loss has definitely hindered my ability to relax through this pregnancy so far. But relaxed or not, I know that through this current joyful period of my life God is not letting go of me, and for that I am thankful.
The Journey Continues
As grief finally lightened and tears slowly faded from a daily occurrence, Ashley and I began living our lives again. I would still place flowers on Elliott's tiny grave and tears would still come to my eyes when I thought of where we would be at this time in our pregnancy. But God proved to be faithful and brought us out of the darkest of days. As spring approached, hope seemed to be knocking on our door because my mother-in-law was given the unbelievable news that she would be cancer-free if she went through one more surgery. We were praising God and rejoicing in the news that despite the deep sorrow we experienced in January, we could also see God's faithfulness. The song "Blessed be Your Name" continually came to mind and I just kept singing the lyrics, "You give and take away". Our sweet baby Elliott would never live here on this earth, but my mother-in-law was given a second chance from what had originally seemed an imminent death sentence!
However, little did I know, God's plan for our life was still in progress. My mother-in-law suffered from complications from surgery and after two long and painful weeks, her 5 sons decided to take her off life support and let her go home with the Lord. Why?!? was all I could ask. Another blow to Ashley and I who were already in deep despair from losing Elliott. I thought this was God giving me something good that I deserved. I thought this was supposed to be the light at the end of the dark tunnel we had been in the past 4 months. And exactly 4 months since we had buried Elliott, we stood at my mother-in-law's grave and said goodbye to another dearly loved member of our family.
But that's not the end. I did get something "good" that I thought I deserved, but God's "goodness" is not the same as ours, and for that I am thankful. My 17 year old brother-in-law needed a home and parents now and Ashley's parents had entrusted us with that responsibility. There are still days I question why they chose us. Not because of Sean, but because there are 3 other perfectly responsible and loving brothers with wives that could love and care for Sean better than I do most days. I'm clueless on parenting and on teenage boys and within a blink of an eye, here we were, parents to a grieving 6'5" teenage boy. So I did what I could. I cooked, I baked, I did laundry. The first few weeks were quite an adjustment. Setting rules, realizing I need to cook a lot more, and deciphering how to love a kid were consuming my days. But as the days turned to weeks and months, Sean became our son. I know that he isn't in the traditional sense our son, but we aren't a traditional family unit anymore and just as we are children of God, so Sean is our child.
So it has been 6 months since Sean became part of our family and now I am finally catching a small glimpse of the journey God has been taking us on. Instead of being proud about my little baby rolling over, I was proud to walk Sean onto the football field on Senior Night. Instead of boasting of my baby saying his first words, I sat choking back tears as the coach announced to a room full of people that Sean has a strong disposition and excellent character at his awards banquet. Instead of going to the store and buying diapers and formula, I get to buy food and more food. Sean has been a blessing in every sense of the word. Oddly enough, he brought me out of the grief of losing Elliott. Yes, I still cry when it snows and I remember that cold January night we buried Elliott, but I love Sean as much as I would my own son and God knew that I wouldn't have had I still been stuck in the self-centered consumerism of life. He knew that the journey Ashley and I were taken on this past year was needed to make us love more and care more.
There are moments and days that my frustration with life gets the best of me, but I am continually brought back to remembering that "the Lord is my God". I lost a little baby I never knew and it wrecked me, but I see Sean standing in the front row of the church praising God after losing both his parents and I am reminded, I am blessed. For 17 years Sean knew and loved his parents, yet he continues to praise God through the storms of life and I questioned God after losing a baby I never knew. Sean's perspective on life has changed me and his presence as our son has formed Ashley and I into people we would never have become without him. We thought we would be blessed with a little baby in July, but instead we became blessed with a grown boy in June and I can't imagine life any differently. God did "give and take away", just in a different way than my human ability could fathom.
However, little did I know, God's plan for our life was still in progress. My mother-in-law suffered from complications from surgery and after two long and painful weeks, her 5 sons decided to take her off life support and let her go home with the Lord. Why?!? was all I could ask. Another blow to Ashley and I who were already in deep despair from losing Elliott. I thought this was God giving me something good that I deserved. I thought this was supposed to be the light at the end of the dark tunnel we had been in the past 4 months. And exactly 4 months since we had buried Elliott, we stood at my mother-in-law's grave and said goodbye to another dearly loved member of our family.
But that's not the end. I did get something "good" that I thought I deserved, but God's "goodness" is not the same as ours, and for that I am thankful. My 17 year old brother-in-law needed a home and parents now and Ashley's parents had entrusted us with that responsibility. There are still days I question why they chose us. Not because of Sean, but because there are 3 other perfectly responsible and loving brothers with wives that could love and care for Sean better than I do most days. I'm clueless on parenting and on teenage boys and within a blink of an eye, here we were, parents to a grieving 6'5" teenage boy. So I did what I could. I cooked, I baked, I did laundry. The first few weeks were quite an adjustment. Setting rules, realizing I need to cook a lot more, and deciphering how to love a kid were consuming my days. But as the days turned to weeks and months, Sean became our son. I know that he isn't in the traditional sense our son, but we aren't a traditional family unit anymore and just as we are children of God, so Sean is our child.
So it has been 6 months since Sean became part of our family and now I am finally catching a small glimpse of the journey God has been taking us on. Instead of being proud about my little baby rolling over, I was proud to walk Sean onto the football field on Senior Night. Instead of boasting of my baby saying his first words, I sat choking back tears as the coach announced to a room full of people that Sean has a strong disposition and excellent character at his awards banquet. Instead of going to the store and buying diapers and formula, I get to buy food and more food. Sean has been a blessing in every sense of the word. Oddly enough, he brought me out of the grief of losing Elliott. Yes, I still cry when it snows and I remember that cold January night we buried Elliott, but I love Sean as much as I would my own son and God knew that I wouldn't have had I still been stuck in the self-centered consumerism of life. He knew that the journey Ashley and I were taken on this past year was needed to make us love more and care more.
There are moments and days that my frustration with life gets the best of me, but I am continually brought back to remembering that "the Lord is my God". I lost a little baby I never knew and it wrecked me, but I see Sean standing in the front row of the church praising God after losing both his parents and I am reminded, I am blessed. For 17 years Sean knew and loved his parents, yet he continues to praise God through the storms of life and I questioned God after losing a baby I never knew. Sean's perspective on life has changed me and his presence as our son has formed Ashley and I into people we would never have become without him. We thought we would be blessed with a little baby in July, but instead we became blessed with a grown boy in June and I can't imagine life any differently. God did "give and take away", just in a different way than my human ability could fathom.
From the Beginning
About this time a year ago my husband, Ashley, and I were anxiously anticipating Christmas because we would finally be able to announce to family and friends that we were expecting our first child. We were consumed with scouring the internet for nursery themes and baby names. We talked incessantly about our baby we were expecting and we couldn't wait to break the news so we could shop and paint and joyfully spend the next 8 months planning to be parents. When Christmas approached, those days surrounding it were like none I will ever forget. There were shouts and tears of joy from members in our church when Ashley announced it from the stage, there were phone calls, hugs and planning in place for baby showers and quilts by family. It was all about us and our baby. Facebook was littered with congrats and well wishes and cards came in the mail. We couldn't be anymore happy, or self-centered.
Fast forward two weeks at my 11 week OB appointment. Ashley and I went in there planning on going out to eat since it was a Friday night and maybe looking for some baby items at the store. I felt great and the high from announcing our pregnancy was still floating with me. But after an hour in the doctors office and several ultrasounds later, we walked out into the cold January air in shock. "I'm sorry, I can't find the heartbeat." Those words from the ultrasound tech still bring tears to my eyes and will forever be ingrained on my heart. Quickly passing from a state of shock to utter despair we somehow made it home and in bed as the tears soaked our sheets. I didn't want to tell people because I wanted to continue to live my "perfect" life. Anger, despair, frustration, pain...they were all coursing through my body at the same time.
Those next few weeks were a blur, filled with awkward conversations, tears and pain. I had decided to let my body run its course and pass the baby naturally. It may have been my background as a nurse, but I think it was more my love as a mother that I wanted to see my baby instead of having it surgically removed. Little did I know that 20 days later I would say goodbye. After passing the baby, Ashley and I set him in a beautiful box my dear friend gave me and we put on our coats and boots at three in the morning and trekked outside in our backyard through the snow to bury our baby. I will never forget that night. The sky was so clear filled with stars and the air was so cold. My tears froze on my cheeks, and at that moment, it was just Ashley and I alone in our pain. As the weeks followed I somehow found the ability to keep going with life. Every day I would look out my back window at the tiny mound of snow-covered dirt topped with flowers and my heart would break again and again.
A few days following the passing of our baby, Ashley and I decided we didn't want to keep referring to the baby as an it, because to us, our baby had a place in the world, even if it wasn't recognized by everyone else. So with little discussion our hearts both agreed on the name Elliott. Shortly after deciding that name, I looked up the meaning and Elliott means, "the Lord is my God". How true is this. Despite the pain and sorrow, the Lord is still my God, my Healer, my Comforter. Deep down I knew this, but in the darkest moments of sorrow and pain it was hard to believe. And little did I know that the next 12 months God would continue to show me His Love and would mold me into a person who not only "knew" these truths, but believed them with my whole heart.
Fast forward two weeks at my 11 week OB appointment. Ashley and I went in there planning on going out to eat since it was a Friday night and maybe looking for some baby items at the store. I felt great and the high from announcing our pregnancy was still floating with me. But after an hour in the doctors office and several ultrasounds later, we walked out into the cold January air in shock. "I'm sorry, I can't find the heartbeat." Those words from the ultrasound tech still bring tears to my eyes and will forever be ingrained on my heart. Quickly passing from a state of shock to utter despair we somehow made it home and in bed as the tears soaked our sheets. I didn't want to tell people because I wanted to continue to live my "perfect" life. Anger, despair, frustration, pain...they were all coursing through my body at the same time.
Those next few weeks were a blur, filled with awkward conversations, tears and pain. I had decided to let my body run its course and pass the baby naturally. It may have been my background as a nurse, but I think it was more my love as a mother that I wanted to see my baby instead of having it surgically removed. Little did I know that 20 days later I would say goodbye. After passing the baby, Ashley and I set him in a beautiful box my dear friend gave me and we put on our coats and boots at three in the morning and trekked outside in our backyard through the snow to bury our baby. I will never forget that night. The sky was so clear filled with stars and the air was so cold. My tears froze on my cheeks, and at that moment, it was just Ashley and I alone in our pain. As the weeks followed I somehow found the ability to keep going with life. Every day I would look out my back window at the tiny mound of snow-covered dirt topped with flowers and my heart would break again and again.
A few days following the passing of our baby, Ashley and I decided we didn't want to keep referring to the baby as an it, because to us, our baby had a place in the world, even if it wasn't recognized by everyone else. So with little discussion our hearts both agreed on the name Elliott. Shortly after deciding that name, I looked up the meaning and Elliott means, "the Lord is my God". How true is this. Despite the pain and sorrow, the Lord is still my God, my Healer, my Comforter. Deep down I knew this, but in the darkest moments of sorrow and pain it was hard to believe. And little did I know that the next 12 months God would continue to show me His Love and would mold me into a person who not only "knew" these truths, but believed them with my whole heart.
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