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

Aware

"Gratitude in its deepest sense means to live life as a gift to be received thankfully. And true gratitude embraces all of life: the good and the bad, the joyful and the painful, the holy and the not-so-holy. We do this because we become aware of God's life, God's presence in the middle of all that happens."

Henri Nouwen

Good company

Our whole family went to a baby shower tonight.

Now, normally a baby shower wouldn't be a super exciting event for us. For one, I don't know that baby showers are EVER super exciting for men. :) And besides, we should have our own newborn baby right now, and I don't particularly enjoy being reminded of the fact that we don't at an event that is celebrating someone else's baby.

HOWEVER, this baby shower was different. The family of honor welcomed a sweet baby girl last month after losing their son at 20 weeks in the fall of 2010. This is the mama friend who cried with me on the phone the night before we were induced with sweet Hannah and told me about the Missing Grace Foundation.

Not only was this family familiar with the pain of pregnancy loss. Every other family at the shower knew the same pain. This group of friends met while attending the support groups at Missing Grace and they've so wonderfully taken us under their wings in the last five months.

There's something very humbling and comforting about being with people who have been where you've been. And, frankly, it's a really crappy thing that we all have in common. But once you are in this "club," you're so glad that the club exists. Because, heaven help us if we had to get through this mess of grief and pain without someone there to say, "I know what this is like. I know how much this sucks. I know how you feel."

Even when this exhausted new mama tells of her sleepless nights and possibly colicky baby's fussiness, you know it's still from a place of knowing how incredibly lucky she is to be holding this precious life. And of wishing she'd had the chance to spend sleepless nights rocking her fussy baby boy a year and a half ago.

So, welcome to the world, Adeline Beatrice. We're so glad you're here!

Samuel Evan

My sweet Hannah has a new friend in heaven. I was connected with RaeAnne through a former co-worker and I've followed her story since December. It's an amazing, beautiful story of strength and faith. Samuel was born on Saturday and went home to Jesus a few hours later.
If you'd like to read their story, RaeAnne has been blogging at Nothing Without You and has a wonderful way with words.
RaeAnne, I'm so sorry you have to join so many of us on this journey as a bereaved mother. <3

Wisdom from "Sacred Marriage"

"What I am saying is not simply the old Puritan truism that 'suffering teaches.' I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness, and the willingness to remain vulnerable."
- Anne Morrow Lindbergh

"If we live without an eternal perspective, earthly trials become larger than life. Without the hope of heaven or the sense of the importance of growing character and refinement, there is nothing to prepare for, nothing to look forward to; it is like practicing and practicing, but never getting to actually play a game."
-Gary Thomas

Gratitude

Our lives are full of losses—losses of dreams and losses of friends and losses of family and losses of hopes. Over time, there are more and more things we can be negative about. Resentment makes us cling to our failures or disappointments and complain about the losses in our lives. Resentment gives us a hardened heart, and we become resentful people.

Gratitude in its deepest sense means to live life as a gift to be received gratefully. But gratitude as the gospel speaks about it embraces all of life: the good and the bad, the joyful and the painful, the holy and the not so holy.

Jesus calls us to gratitude. He calls us to recognize that gladness and sadness are never separate, that joy and sorrow really belong together, and that mourning and dancing are part of the same movement. That is why Jesus calls us to be grateful for every moment that we have lived and to claim our unique journey as God's way to mold our hearts to greater conformity with God's own.

Henri Nouwen