Hope

I'm not about to tell people how they should grieve, but I do find myself saddened by the fact that more people don't live with hope. Being thrust into this babyloss community, I have a front-row seat to everyone's struggles. And sometimes those struggles are downright despair with no glimmer of hope anywhere.

Now, don't get me wrong. I have really hard days. I am sad that Hannah and Charlie aren't here. But there is always hope. The God who carried us through our losses still carries us today. I can't imagine how hard life would feel without Him.

The other night, I was driving home from St. Paul when this song came on the radio. It was totally a gift from God right when I needed it. A perfect reminder that He has been there all along. He IS constant, good, and sovereign.





You were reaching through the storm
walking on the water
even when I could not see
in the middle of it all
when I thought You were a thousand miles away
not for a moment did You forsake me
not for a moment did You forsake me

after all You are constant
after all You are only good
after all You are sovereign
not for a moment will You forsake me
not for a moment will You forsake me

You were singing in the dark
whispering Your promise
even when I could not hear
I was held in Your arms
carried for a thousand miles to show
Not for a moment did You forsake me

and every step every breath you are there
every tear every cry every prayer
in my hurt at my worst
when my world falls down
not for a moment will You forsake me
even in the dark
even when it's hard
you will never leave me
after all

not for a moment will You forsake me


Praying for friends today, wherever they are in their grief. Praying for hope.

Reflections on an unplugged weekend

I think it's fair to say that I've been rather disgusted by the overuse of social media and the personal devices that make it so easy to have everything we "need" right at our fingertips. From play dates where I had to compete for attention with someone's smart phone, to holiday gatherings where everyone was so plugged into their own little world, to this:

Really? And maybe this photo was doctored up, but the fact is that I don't think it would surprise anyone to see that the entire first family was on their phones during the inauguration. 

And then I came across this blog and these two posts in particular:

The Children Have Spoken

How to Miss a Childhood

And while I'm not personally convicted by these posts, they do make me really sad. Because I see it, too. And it's not just the parents who are plugged in. It's the kids sitting at the restaurant (or the checkout lane at Target or the doctor's office waiting room), playing on their parents' (or even worse, their own) iPad or smart phone. 

Now, don't get me wrong. Plenty of the apps on our iPad and Dan's iPhone are games for the kids (and some are even educational--bonus). Not to mention the access to Netflix. But we definitely limit the amount of screen time that the kids get everyday. And we certainly aren't taking these devices out of the house in a regular basis. But both kids are quick to ask, "Can I play the iPad?" if they are even approaching "bored" territory in their day. And the answer is usually "No," or "Okay, but just for 5 minutes."

But then I got thinking. Are our (general American family "our") kids programmed to be entertained by something or someone every moment of the day? Yes, they are. I notice it when Jack has more than a couple of days off of school. He's not used to the lack of constant classroom stimulation. And just the fact that my kids alone are so quick to ask for something to play with/on before they even begin to try to entertain themselves with something else was eye-opening.

So, I proposed a weekend of technology detox.

And the best part is that my family didn't freak out at the idea. They actually welcomed it. And I secretly thought that they were in for a rude awakening. :) After chatting with my husband, we decided on this past weekend--Friday night through Sunday night. And while I didn't want it to feel like a structured "thing," these were our basic ground rules:

Both laptops and the iPad were turned off and put away in our bedroom. 

Since we don't have a landline, our cell phones were placed on the counter in case we needed to be reached and were taken with us if we left the house--but only to be used for answering the phone.

Our only television time would be two designated movie times, with all of us watching the same thing together. 

Thank you, redbox.

And that's it. We started when Dan came home from work on Friday. And we survived! In fact, it didn't feel THAT different from a normal weekend. Here are some thoughts/highlights.

Both kids (okay, mostly Leah) would ask to watch something or to play with the iPad, but as soon as I said, "No, we're not doing that this weekend," they said, "Okay," and moved on.

A lot of the things we did instead of relying on devices are things we do all the time anyway: we ate every meal together, we read, we cleaned, we played with Legos, we did homework, we colored, we did laundry, etc. Getting rid of the devices didn't open up this whole world of, "Oh my word, look at all the stuff I have time to do now that I'm not tied to my smart phone!" And for that I am grateful. It let me know that maybe our "plugged in-ness" is at a reasonable, moderate level.

It was so quiet. Sometimes I'll turn the TV on to watch the news and realize a couple of hours later that I never turned it off, and we just get used to that noise in the background. But the quiet is so amazing. Even constant music via iTunes or Pandora can make me crazy after a while. I just need to hear nothing. Except for the owl that lives in a tall tree somewhere in our backyard. So awesome. :)

Jackson did two things that made me smile. After already getting his allotted 30 minutes of reading done on Sunday, he grabbed another book and said, "Could you set the timer for 15 minutes? I'm going to keep reading." :) Then out of nowhere in the car, he said, "I think we should unplug every weekend." I said, "I like the way you think!"

Logging back on last night was most disappointing! As I scrolled through my newsfeed, I thought, "Seriously? This is what I missed?" You all could have been much more interesting! ;)

So, there you have it. Am I leaving facebook or swearing off the use of devices? No. Although I don't know that I'll ever have the desire to move on from my basic non-smart phone. The break was nice, and I'm sure  we'll do it again once in a while. But I am also coming away from the weekend knowing that we have our priorities pretty well lined-up. There's obviously always room for improvement, and some days and weeks are harder than others in this area.

I'd love to challenge you to try an unplugged weekend. And I'd love to hear how it goes!

The Liebster Award

Sweet RaeAnne has nominated me for a Liebster Award!



This blog award is granted to up and coming bloggers with fewer than 200 followers who deserve some recognition and support to keep on blogging. What is a Liebster? Liebster is German and means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome.

RaeAnne has asked 11 questions for the 11 people she nominated for the award. Here are my answers. :)

1. What do you love most about your baby/ies?
I have four babies. Jackson is almost 7, and he's the baby who made me a mom. :) My favorite thing about Jack is his heart. He is so kind and tenderhearted. Leah is my first girl and is 3 1/2. As my husband says, God literally put a ray of sunshine in Leah when He made her. And it's true--she just radiates joy. My third baby is Hannah, and my favorite thing about her is how much she has enriched our lives, even though she died before she was even born. She brought life through her death. My fourth baby is Charlie, and I love that I knew he was a boy. It is a small thing, but after two losses and questioning how much I actually knew my  body and the things going on inside it, I was thrilled to learn that my mother's intuition had been right. :)

2. What character from a book would you like to meet (even fictional ones)? Why?
Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. It's a story I've loved for so long, and I'm re-reading the books right now. And they're just so fun. Anne is just so unique and amazing. And Gilbert is the quintessential literary gentleman.

3. If someone could bring you a meal right now, what would it be?
Soup! I am all about soup right now, especially with these sub-zero temps we've been gifted with in mid-January Minnesota. Brrr. I love a good tomato soup. Or chicken noodle. I actually have two soups that I found on Pinterest on my menu for next week--potato soup and tortellini soup. Looking forward to those dinners!

4. What is the best thing someone has said to you after your loss?
I can't think of a specific thing, but just acknowledging the loss and not trying to explain it. Saying something is important--staying silent is painful. And trying to explain it is ridiculous and usually results in something hurtful.

5. What reminds you of your babies the most?
Footprints remind me of Hannah. Even when Leah sees footprints, she calls them "Hannah footprints." :) I don't have a specific thing that reminds me of Charlie. Definitely seeing their names or initials in other places.

6. What's your favorite song/book/movie?
Song: Wow, this is hard! I feel like I have to pick one out of a billion good ones. :) In regards to grief, I really love the Steven Curtis Chapman song "Not Home Yet." Just a great reminder that as painful as life on this earth without our babies is, it's a drop in the pond of the eternity we'll get to spend with them. THIS isn't home.
Book: To Kill a Mockingbird. It's the first book I remember reading for school and not hating. :) And it's just amazing.
Movie: The Sound of Music. Classic. I've probably seen it a hundred times, and it never gets old.

7. Who do you admire most?
Oof, another impossible question. I'm going to have to pick more than one. :) First, my mom. She's one of my best friends and there are many things I love about her, but I admire her for how she faced cancer. It's been almost 9 years since her diagnosis and she faced it with confidence and grace. And survived, so that's awesome too. :)
I also admire my husband for breaking free from generational crap, for lack of a better word, and being an amazing and present husband and father.

8. What's one thing you wish people knew about you?
Hmmm. I don't think there's much that people don't know! I'm an open book. ;)

9. If you could visit any place in the world, where would you go and what would you do?
Either Hawaii or the UK. Our honeymoon was in northern MN in July, so I've always wanted to take a tropical trip with Dan. We'd do absolutely nothing but lay in the sun and relax. :) And Dan went to England and Scottland when he was in college and has always wanted to return. So I think that would be another fun trip.

10. What's the best date night you and your spouse ever had?
Our anniversaries are always pretty awesome date nights. It usually involves a restaurant that we'd deem too expensive any other night of the year. :) Last year was our 10th anniversary and we had dinner at Fogo de Chao (which rocked) and then went to Comedy Sportz (a local improv group that we also saw on our first date). It was a pretty fun night!

11. If you could redo your wedding day, what would you change/what would you keep?
There isn't much I'd change. If anything, I'd choose a different season. We got married on the hottest day of the summer--the dew point was literally over 80 degrees (making the heat index like 115 or something). It was insane. I would have much preferred spring or fall, but since I was still in school, it was much easier to do it in the summer.

For Ellen

One of my favorite famous people is Ellen DeGeneres. Her birthday is in January, and after a random viewer sent in a duct tape likeness of Ellen, Ellen decided to allow others to send in handmade "Ellens."

Well, how could I say no to that?

Meet crocheted Ellen.

Isn't she just irresistible? I know the skirt and the bow in her hair are a little far fetched, but I think the tennis shoes make up for it. And the hair was just plain ugly without the bow. :)

I'm also enclosing gifts for her nieces: an elephant for Eva and a pig for Perry.

Hehe! :)

Time stands still

While running some errands with the kids last night, Jackson told me, "We're making a star at school, and we have to write five things that we remember about 2012. I wanted to write 'My mom lost a baby,' but my teacher said it had to be stuff about me."

I said, "Well, I bet we can think of some other things to put on it. But that was sweet of you to remember Charlie."

"No, I meant Hannah and Charlie."

"Well, we lost Charlie in 2012. Hannah was actually in 2011."

"Wow, it's been a long time. It doesn't feel like it."

Tell me about it, kid!

Sometimes the fact that it's been over a year since Hannah was stillborn makes my head spin. And now that we're past the six-month mark of losing Charlie, it's even crazier. And it doesn't always hit me just how much life has been lived in the last 14 months. Sometimes grief feels all-consuming.

But then we have an amazing breakfast date with friends. Or I get to snuggle with my newly non-napping Leah or listen to Jack, my budding reader, read me a book. And I remember that we have experienced a lot in the last year+. A lot of pain, but a lot of life. A lot of life.

Happy New Year!

I remember exactly what I said on Facebook on December 31, 2011. That 2011 had kicked my butt and I was looking forward to 2012 with hope and peace.

And then 2012 sort of kicked my butt too. Crap.

So now we're entering yet another year. 2013. And what am I?

Glad for a fresh start.
Scared.
Hopeful.
Grateful.
Cautious.

I'm trying really hard not to brace myself for another butt-kicking. It might come, but I'd rather trust that God will carry us through whatever he has for us, just as He has so faithfully the last year+.

Dates

Some dates are so significant. And sometimes I hate that. It's one thing if the date is a birthday or anniversary--a happy event. But when it's the anniversary of your baby's death, or the due date of a baby who didn't make it, then dates kind of suck.

Today is a significant date for two reasons. First, it is six months since I miscarried Charlie. And second, today should have been Charlie's due date. Double whammy. Just another chapter in the book of Things Are Not the Way They Should Be. 

And subsequent loss is such a tricky thing. Because beyond the emotions of missing Charlie and wishing I really was 40 weeks pregnant, there is this counterpart that says, "There should never have been a Charlie! Hannah should be here, and she should be 9 months old." But she's not. So there was a Charlie. And now there's not.

Christmas butterflies courtesy of Carly Marie.

Bean Sprout Baby!

Last fall, I taught myself how to crochet. And as the fall progressed with all of its craziness, crocheting became very therapeutic.

After the holidays last year, I decided my very unofficial New Year's resolution would be to open an etsy shop in 2012. At with just a couple of months left in the year, I've done it!

Please, take a look! Enjoy! :)

http://www.etsy.com/shop/BeanSproutBaby

one year

Grief is funny.

Not "ha ha" funny. It's unpredictable and annoying. It's necessary. It's messy.

If someone had sat me down on November 2nd last year and said, "Here's what you've got to look forward to in the next year. Here are the losses, challenges, and CRAP that await you," I don't think I would have necessarily welcomed that news with open arms. "Bring it on! Let's see what we can handle!" No. Please just let me keep living my normal, easy life. Please.

However, looking BACK at this past year from here, having survived it, I'd do it again. What? Yes. I'd do it all again because we've not only lost this year. We have gained. We have been gifted with so much. Amidst the pain, there has been life. There has been hope. We have felt God near us in ways that we never have before.

Rather than get into this more in writing, I will share the video from this weekend's services. I was honored to  share our story during our annual "Novembering" services. It was a very sweet, humbling time.

My portion starts around 14:20 and runs roughly 9 minutes. But if you can spare the half hour, I think Steve's intro and closing are really poignant, and Wayne's story is very sweet as well. And the video ends with the scrolling list of names that our community has lost over the past year. Even when you don't know someone on the list, it's always such an emotional part of the service. Both Charlie's and Hannah's names are on the list, which Elizabeth Hunnicutt accompanied with her amazing song, "Grows Hope."

https://vimeo.com/52875936

(Sorry you'll have to deal with following a link. My non-premiere vimeo account won't let me embed) :)

Fall Garden

In fall
the garden is spent

having given its all.

Cucumber vines lie exhausted on the ground

Tomato plants list to one side

Cornstalks stand dignified and empty

Sunflower faces droop earthward, 

shades of their former selves.

All that has not been claimed lies moldering in the dirt--

          a bruised tomato, a forsaken pepper...

                    a misshapen pumpkin, a trampled stalk of beans.

What came from earth is returning

to the place from whence it came.

There is an intimacy here,

          in the fall garden,

                    gazing at living things in their demise.

I want to avert my eyes, avoid this tender grief.

Is this life or is this death? I cannot tell.

Ah, but there is beauty here

          amid all this death and dying.

To have given one's self fully

at least once

that is the thing.

To have spent oneself in an explosion of color

          to have offered one's body for food,

                    one's very soul for nourishment...

It is an unseemly generosity,

beauty of another kind.

In fall

the garden says, "This is my life, given for you." 

And we are fed.

Ruth Haley Barton

Sharing

On Thursday afternoon this week, I got an email from one of our pastors. He asked if I'd be willing to share some of our story during our annual Novembering (remembering lost loved ones) services next weekend. As in, during the main service. In our not-so-tiny church.

I said yes.

And then I felt like I was going to throw up for about the next hour.

But I knew as soon as he asked that it was something I needed to do. As I told him, any opportunity I have to tell our story and maybe help one person through our experience, it means that our babies haven't died in vain. That there is a reason for everything we've gone through in the last almost-year.

It's going to be a crazy weekend. The services are November 3rd and 4th. Last year, we found out Hannah had died on November 3rd and my induction began on the 4th. What a difference a year makes. We are also set to celebrate Hannah's birthday on the 4th, as well as attend a brick dedication ceremony where Hannah's brick is because we had one placed for Charlie as well. And then Monday is her actual birthday, and I'm sure I'll be a mess. Maybe I'll go to bed Monday night and, by the grace of God, wake up on Friday. Is that really too much to ask? ;)

Anyway, I'd greatly appreciate your prayers--right now, as I write out my story, for clarity. And next weekend, as I actually share, for peace and clarity. And that I wouldn't throw up, pretty much....

October 15th

In October, 1988, President Ronald Reagan proclaimed October as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, stating:

"When a child loses his parent, he is called an orphan. When a spouse loses her partner, she is called a widow. When parents lose their child, there isn't a word to describe them. This month recognizes the loss so many parents experience across the United States and around the world. It is also meant to inform and provide resources for parents who have lost children due to miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, molar pregnancy, stillbirth, birth defects, SIDS, and other causes."

The co-founders of www.october15th.com decided on October 15th as a day where communities could better understand the pain of those grieving the loss of a child or children--a day to reflect on their pain and embrace them in love.

If you or someone you love has lost a child, you are invited to light a candle tonight at 7:00pm (in any time zone) for one hour to honor those lives lost.

All historical information given is courtesy of www.october15th.com.

This is why

After an unfortunate run in yesterday with an anonymous comment on an old blog post, I came across this post today on Franchesca's blog. And it could not have been better timed. THIS is why I write. And it's why I don't just write about the pretty, comfortable stuff. Because grief isn't pretty or comfortable. It's messy. And unpredictable.

And so I'll KEEP writing. Just try and stop me. ;)

http://smallbirdstudios.com/2012/10/12/why-it-is-important-to-break-the-silence-about-baby-loss/

Last year

My dear friend Amy coined a phrase that I find myself using a lot lately.

The ghosts of autumns past.

Normally the change in the temperature, the emergence of fall decor, and the too-early-emergence of Christmas decor/music/etc would be a welcome shift from summer. But now it just conjures up painful memories.

We're getting to the point in the year that, one year ago, our lives changed forever. So the next month is full of dates that were just normal days one year ago, but that will now forever be significant.

One year ago today was my 20-week ultrasound. We got to see our precious baby (choosing to keep the gender a surprise) and marveled at God's handiwork of tiny fingers and toes. Halfway to March 1! We ate a celebratory brunch at IHOP. :)

I remember a scrapbooking retreat, a girls' night out, a parent-teacher conference. And I was pregnant. Blissfully unaware that just weeks later, I no longer would be.

Halloween is probably the hardest day to think about at this point. That was the last time I really felt Hannah move. It was the last big event before the rest of that awful week unfolded.

And then my mind moves beyond November 5th. To the first surreal days of this new journey. To fitting into regular jeans way too soon. To picking up my daughter's ashes. To a trip to Duluth as a newly bereaved family. To surviving Thanksgiving. To dreading December and the happiness of Christmas. Because I wasn't happy. I was broken. And mad. And not pregnant anymore.

So what do these ghosts of autumns past do? They make me want to crawl in a hole. To put on my yoga pants and take a nap for about a month. To hide. To wallow. To despair. But really? That would just be giving in to these ghosts. These ghosts that have no authority to touch me in the slightest way.

So here's to not giving these ghosts power. Because I truly believe in the One who wants more for me than to dwell on how hard things were last year. One who encourages us to have hope in the future and believe there are bright days ahead.

Hannah's birthday

November 5th is quickly approaching. And since there's nothing I can do to stop that date from getting here, I'm trying to embrace it and think of the ways we can celebrate her very brief life.

In March, I had some very sweet friends honor Hannah's due date by releasing pink balloons. It was the most touching gesture, and I love the idea of doing it again for her birthday. Our family will be visiting the Angel of Hope statue where Hannah's brick is placed and releasing a pink balloon from there. If YOU would like to join us virtually, you are invited to release one pink balloon on either November 4th or 5th. (Just because it's easier to get our family together on a Sunday rather than a weeknight, we will be celebrating and releasing on Sunday the 4th). If you do release a pink balloon, I'd LOVE a picture of it! Feel free to email it to me at erinmbennett720@gmail.com or post it on Facebook and tag me.

Prayer flags

A few weeks ago, Carly Marie posted something on Facebook about a project she was taking on in honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day on October 15th. She is inviting people to make prayer flags and send them to her so she can construct banners out of all of them for a ceremony she will hold at the beach (in Australia, where she writes all of the names in the sand). Well, a few of us decided to make flags and send them together to save on shipping. :) Our shipping day is Friday, so I figured this afternoon that I better get them done. And this is what I came up with! I knew I wanted their names and dates, and I added Bible verses to them. I had bought a few other things to decorate them, but I liked how simple they were with just the embroidery and a little bit of ribbon. So I decided they were done. :) Can't wait to mail them!

Missing out

Once in a while, I am hit with how much of Hannah's life we are missing out on. Jack is downstairs cleaning his room right now and I just heard him say her name. And then I imagined how we'd be hearing her name if she were here. "Hannah just rolled over!" "Mom, Hannah needs a new diaper." "Hey, I think Hannah just woke up." She should have joined us in March, so she'd be about six months right now. We'd be starting solid food. We'd be making her laugh. She'd be blowing raspberries and developing a distinct personality.

Sometimes I feel like I'm doing really well. And then sometimes I feel like this post happened a lifetime ago. I'm mad that I don't get to use her name to talk to her on a daily basis. And then my iTunes plays Steven Curtis Chapman's "Not Home Yet" and I remember that life on this earth is such a blip on the screen compared to what waits for us when we die.

But it still sucks sometimes.

Color Me Mine

A couple of weeks ago, my friend RaeAnne invited us to join them at Color Me Mine (a paint-your-own pottery studio in Maple Grove) on Sunday the 19th in honor of August 19th Day of Hope. Instead of all four of us going, I decided to take Jack with me for some art time. :) Luckily we were some of the first ones there because it took us a while to pick out what we wanted to make. Jack finally settled on a basketball piggy bank, and I picked out two small boxes, as well as letters to adhere to the top for Hannah and Charlie. It was a really fun experience--wonderful to sit and chat with RaeAnne, awesome to do something artistic with my little artist, and amazing to make something for my sweet babies who live in heaven.

On Tuesday, we got a phone call from Color Me Mine that our stuff was done and we could pick it up! So we did right away, because Jack was REALLY anxious to see his basketball. :) I don't have a picture of that yet, but here are Hannah and Charlie's boxes that I made!

So many feelings!

If I were still pregnant with Charlie, I'd be approaching the point in my pregnancy at which I lost Hannah. But I'm not pregnant. So this day/week that I anticipated being very difficult is, instead, quite different. I'm obviously thinking about what we were going through last November as we approached the 23-week mark. But since I'm not carrying another life, I'm obviously not fearing another loss. So it's mostly facing a date that should have been significant in my pregnancy after a loss. But now it will be just another day.

We spent the better portion of the last week up north with my family. It was a great time of relaxation and fun, and I had some time to do some reading. In addition to plodding along in Anne of Avonlea, I also brought Turn My Mourning into Dancing by Henri Nouwen, which I've been reading on and off for a while now. It's SO good, and has the potential of being a really quick read, but it's also so RICH. I feel like I can only handle a little at a time. Anyway, reading some of it this week has been quite timely and refreshing. I feel like things are starting to heal. And while I would give anything to still be pregnant with my sweet Charlie, I know that there is some healing from our first loss that is still taking place--healing that wouldn't be taking place if I was still pregnant right now. So for that, I am thankful. The future feels hopeful again.

Molly Bears

Shortly after Hannah died, I heard of a ministry called Molly Bears. They make weighted teddy bears for people who have lost babies (to weigh as much as your baby did). Their waiting list is opened up once a month, so I signed up at the end of November to request a Hannah bear. At number 1628 on the waiting list, I knew it would be a while (the waiting list is sadly up to over 4000). So I waited patiently until a few friends got their bears recently because I knew I wasn't too far behind them. And sure enough, earlier this week, I got an email notification that mine had shipped!

The really amazing part is that when we lost Charlie, I emailed them to ask if there was any way to add to my "order" rather than adding another bear to the end of the waiting list. Within minutes, they emailed back to say they'd be able to add a Charlie bear to our Hannah bear, who was already in production.

This morning, I happened to check the tracking number they gave me, and it said "out for delivery." And I didn't even care when the mail carrier banged on our door and woke Leah up. :) I sneaked the box into our bedroom to open it alone. The first thing I noticed was that the bears matched. Clearly one girl and one boy, but they were family. And although my babies were not meant for life on this earth, they are brother and sister, and it's only fitting that they should look like it. The second thing I noticed, as I lifted the Hannah bear out of the box, was how heavy 14 ounces felt. I remember Hannah feeling very light (after having nine and a half pound babies, anything would have felt light), and I assumed my Hannah bear would just feel like a normal teddy bear and wouldn't require much of whatever they use for weighting the bears. But there is a significant weight to her, and I love it.

Here are my babies! ♥

What Molly Bears does is so amazing, and they do it as volunteers of a non-profit. If you are at all interested in donating or learning more, please visit their website.