Hope and Hearts Run

In a little over a month, we are going to take place in the 7th annual Hope and Hearts event, benefiting the Missing GRACE Foundation. Missing GRACE  provides resources and support to aid families who have experienced a pregnancy or infant loss, infertility, or adoption challenges and to advocate for proper management of pregnancies for all women. And as you know, we were very blessed to have Missing GRACE at the hospital when Hannah was stillborn. We've also benefited from their support group and other resources available at their Center for GRACE in Rogers.

On September 8, 2012, we will be walking in the Memorial Walk to honor our babies Hannah and Charlie, who are waiting for us in heaven. And if you are interested in joining us, there are a number of ways you can participate!

If you want to be there the day of the event, you can walk or run in the 5K or Memorial walk. ***If you are interested in walking with us as part of Team Hannah and Charlie, please let me know!*** You can also choose from a number of volunteer opportunities that day.

If you aren't able to be with us but still want to participate, you can make a donation! This is a link to the Team Hannah and Charlie fundraising page:
https://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/erinbennett/
Missing GRACE has been such a huge support for us in the last nine months, and I can't think of a more worthy cause at this point in our lives.

You can check out a more detailed list of all of the ways to get involved here:
http://hopeandheartsrun.org/minnesota/

If you have any questions, please feel free to email me at erinmbennett720@gmail.com.
Thanks so much!

10 years

Ten YEARS. That's nearly a third of my LIFE. :)

Ten years ago, while storms raged outside the doors and windows of our sweet little church, Dan and I became husband and wife.

The last ten years have held a lot. Joy. Heartache. Excitement. Sadness. Hope. But I can say with confidence that there's no one else in the world that I'd rather have spent the last decade with.

I love you, my dear! Ten years is a pretty big deal. But I can't wait for the next 50. ♥

three years

Leah Margaret!

You are THREE!!! I can hardly believe that just three years ago we were doing this:

And now we're doing this: 

We had a lovely, low-key Dora celebration over the weekend, complete with a Dora cake and LOTS of Dora presents. :) 

When I think about the last year of your life, it's so obvious how much you've changed. You've grown physically, and you have SUCH a little personality. It's beautiful. Like your daddy says, we're pretty sure God put a little ray of sunshine in you when He made you! You are simply delightful.

In addition to Dora, you are all about babies. In fact, you apparently have one in your belly! And tickling you too hard isn't good for the baby, as you have informed us more than once. ;) You also love to be in the water, and that's definitely a new thing this year. When we get our kiddie pool out, you are in it the whole time we're out there. And we've taken a couple of trips to the beach that you have thoroughly enjoyed.

One of your best friends truly is your brother Jack, which makes this mothers heart so happy. It's amazing to watch the two of you playing around, laughing, and being creative together. Not that you don't have your sibling "moments," but you are mostly pretty friendly. And the third piece of your friendship puzzle is definitely Lucy the cat. Whether she likes it or not (but usually she enjoys the attention), she is definitely the pawn in many of your games.

We are so looking forward to the rest of the summer and the next year with you. So excited to see what God has in store for you. We're so thankful for the beauty, energy, and life that you add to our family. Bless you in the coming year, sweet girl. 

We love you!
Love,

Mom ♥

Finally

I have been slowly collecting paper, printing pictures, and saving special notes. But tonight, just over eight months after Hannah's birth and death, I finally started her memory book.

Sure, it's just the first page. But I have a feeling this will be a lengthy process. Beginning was a necessary first step.

The heartbreak

My friend RaeAnne posted this article on Facebook and it's too good not to share. I found myself nodding along to so much of it.

http://www.jsonline.com/news/opinion/the-heartache-of-infant-loss-131289299.html


I could particularly identify with these:
It's resisting the urge to smack the clueless individuals who compare your situation to the death of their dog or who tell you you'll have another baby, as if children are somehow replaceable.
It's being shut out of play groups for perpetuity. It's skipping social events with expectant and newly minted mothers because, as a walking worst-case scenario, you don't want to put a damper on the party.
It's listening to other women gripe about motherhood and realizing that you no longer relate to their petty parental complaints because, frankly, when you've buried a baby, a sleepless night with a vomiting toddler sounds something like a gift.
Infant loss is pruning from your life the friends and relatives who ignore or minimize your loss. It's recognizing that, while they may not mean to be hurtful, the fact that they don't know any better doesn't make their utter lack of empathy one whit easier to bear.
Infant loss is more than an empty cradle. It's a life sentence.

It was a boy!

My midwife called about an hour ago. They were able to test the baby itself after I miscarried, and they got the results back this morning. There were 46 chromosomes, and they were able to see an x and a y. Baby Charlie was a boy! Of course, I knew it all along, but it feels pretty amazing to know for sure. It makes a very intangible loss feel more real. It was our son.  ♥

Father's Day

On this day last year, I peed on a stick and learned that a third child would be joining our family!

♥  Hannah  ♥

Significant

It's been a little over seven months since Hannah died. Except that seven months came and went before I even realized it. June 5th is the first "fifth" of the month that has gone by without me noticing. By the 7th or 8th, I realized that I had missed it.

At first, I was kind of sad. Maybe even mad. How could I not realize it was the fifth? How could it just slip by without me noticing?

And then it felt healing. It became clear that I'm getting to the point where I'm not focusing on dates. I have to actually think about how many months it has been when someone asks me.

Deep down, I know that I'll never forget the important stuff. Like what my daughter looked like. And how it felt to finally hold her. And how much it hurts that she's not here.

But I know that we're making strides in healing. And that feels good too.

Baby Charlie

Well, I am very sad to have to let you know that our sweet Hannah has a sibling in heaven. Last weekend, at 14 weeks pregnant with our rainbow baby, I ended up in the ER with some bleeding. They couldn't find a heartbeat, and an ultrasound showed that the baby had stopped growing at about 11 1/2 weeks. Thankfully, I miscarried naturally at home the next day.

We named the baby Charlie. We don't know if it is Charles or Charlotte, but it seemed appropriate to give the baby a name. Charlie had been our boy name when I was pregnant with Hannah, and it kind of carried over into this pregnancy. And recently I'd thought about how cute it would be for a girl, too.

We're so sad to have to say goodbye to another baby. But we're reminded that we're not in charge. God has bigger plans and so much grace, and He's so much bigger than our pain.  ♥ 

Fear not

"Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the Lord your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior"

Isaiah 43:1-3

Time does not heal

I came across this lovely blog post today.


"If you know someone who has lost a child, don't assume they are 'over it.' It's something that never goes away."


http://www.rageagainsttheminivan.com/2012/06/what-i-want-you-to-know-when-it-comes.html

Angel of Hope

Back in December, we attended the Angel of Hope annual candlelight vigil. There are over 100 angel statues in the United States, and one of the two in Minnesota happens to be at the Maple Grove Arboretum. Each year on December 6th, they have a candlelight vigil to honor children who have passed away.

Through the city of Maple Grove, you can purchase one of the bricks around the base of the angel statue to honor your lost loved one. After being blessed with people's generosity at Hannah's memorial service, we decided to use a portion of the money to buy a brick. I knew it would be installed sometime late spring and assumed we would just have to go find it sometime on our own.

About a month ago, I received an invitation to a memorial brick dedication. They do this twice a year to honor the bricks that are installed in the spring and fall. So yesterday, we got to see Hannah's brick and honor her sweet life in one more way.

This is the angel statue.

And my sweet Jack and Leah placing flowers on Hannah's brick.

Thoughts on six months

My friend Beth shared this post from another blogger about the six month mark after losing a child. I can identify with so much of it, so I want to share it.

http://facetsoflifeafterloss.blogspot.com/2012/02/6-months-now-what.html

My silly kids

The other day, Dan and I were remembering a video we had of Jack singing at about age three. We watched it together and all got a big kick out of it.


Leah especially loved it and wanted to make her own version today!

Grief graphs

I came across these graphs made by a fellow bereaved mother on Babycenter the other day, and I wanted to share them.

Most of us think of grief like the first graph. We assume that grief gradually decreases as time goes on.

But grief is really more like the second graph. The "peaks" of grief remain as intense, or almost as intense, while the "good times" get longer and the peaks of grief get shorter. 

This illustrates something that is so hard for me right now. I feel like so many people just want us to be all better. To be at the bottom of the first graph--where enough time has gone by, so our grief is not as intense. But we will never be all better. The second graph will go on forever. 

In the beginning, I described it as two steps forward, one step back. We're in this constant motion of slowly moving forward. But some days (or longer), it's two steps forward, two steps back, over and over again while we just stay in the same place. Sometimes we graduate to three steps forward, but there's always that one step back. I anticipate that in the future, we'll get to ten steps forward, one step back. And so on. Walking in this grief for the rest of our lives, learning how to heal, but never getting all better.

I love them

Sometimes I am struck by just how much I ADORE my children. Jackson will do something that makes me realize how much he's growing up and everything he's learning. Leah will sing a song in a silly voice and make us all laugh. Or we'll read a book together and crack up at the end even though we've read it a million times before.

And then I get mad that I'm not continually falling madly in love with Hannah. Don't get me wrong--it was love at first sight. And I'll never forget everything about her sweet little body. But I don't get to KNOW her on this earth. I won't hear her laugh or watch her build an impressive tower of Legos. I won't sit and read her a book for the millionth time.

But then I remember that I'll get to spend an eternity with all of my babies. And I trust that God will use that vastness to redeem what we lost on this earth.

Reminder

"If you know someone who has lost a child, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died--you're not reminding them. They didn't forget they died. What you're reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift." 


~ Elizabeth Edwards

International Bereaved Mothers Day

To my fellow bereaved mothers.

You are beautiful.

This is not a group that any of us wants to be a part of. To have to wait a lifetime before we can meet our sweet child or children.

But whether we hold our babies in our arms or our hearts, we are mothers. God chose us for this very special job. He has trusted us to carry a life that will spend its entirety with Him.

six months

It's been six months since Hannah came into our lives. Six months since we welcomed her into our family and then gave her to Jesus. Six months since we cradled her earthly body, while her heavenly body was being cradled by the Lord.

Six months since we said hello, goodbye.

Mother's Day

The next two weekends are significant for babylost moms everywhere. Sunday, May 6th is International Bereaved Mother's Day, and Sunday, May 13th is, of course, Mother's Day.

My friend Beth wrote a lovely blog post today, and rather than try to rewrite what she did, I want to share it with you.
http://bethmorey.blogspot.com/2012/05/what-to-say-to-bereaved-mother-on.html