Peace Like a River

Life lately

2010-10-12T22:49:00.001-05:00

So much has been happening it's hard to know where to begin...The school year is definitely in full swing, which means not only has my oldest started kindergarten, but I am back to teaching music lessons, and our Wednesday night kids program at church and two weekly Bible studies have begun as well. Combine all of that with the normal day to day care of three children, and Benjamin's CF treatments and you have a recipe for a big pot of Busyness with a scoop of craziness on top! Each moment of the day seems to be spoken for, and at the end of the day, so much is still left undone. I am learning a lot about priorities, time management, and multi-tasking!

Things are generally going well in the midst of the Busyness. We can't stop praising God for Benjamin. He is such a huge gift wrapped in the cutest and cuddliest of packages! He has the sweetest disposition and loves to smile and "talk" to us all the time. It still just melts my heart when he looks into my eyes with such pure sweetness. He continues to do remarkably well with CF, with no lung issues and impressive weight gain. At 3 months, one week he already weighed 16 lb., 3 oz. and had nearly doubled his birth weight! At the CF clinic they always like patients to be around the 50th percentile for weight to height ratio, and for the first time at his last visit he finally made it, and even crossed over to the 67th percentile! He was in the 20th at his first visit, and down to the 15th at one point so it's so exciting to see him thriving like this. He is just so healthy right now and we're so grateful.

Recently I met a woman who works in the NICU at the hospital where Ben was born and she was telling me about a little 4 month-old with CF who has been in the NICU since she was born because of digestive issues. I am so sad for her and for her family, and it just brought home again how blessed we are for him to be doing as well as he is. At times I feel like I'm in denial about the disease because I almost forget that something isn't right with him. We do spend a lot of time doing preventative treatments though, hoping to maintain this level of health for as long as possible. With every feeding we give him digestive enzymes and do chest therapy twice daily to break up thickened mucous so it doesn't build up in his lungs. Last month they also added a breathing treatment twice daily before the chest therapy to open up his airways so the therapy is more effective. All of this takes most of the morning between dropping Caedmon off and then picking him up from morning kindergarten, so you can imagine how the day goes by so quickly!

Caedmon is enjoying school and last week I had the fun of joining his class on a field trip to the pumpkin patch. Jayden enjoys the free reign he has over the house and all the toys while his big brother is gone to school! All the boys are growing so fast I often wonder what Eliana would be like at this stage. Toddling around the house and getting curious, I'm sure. The other day at Mc.Donald's playland, Jayden (my 3-year-old) had a thoughtful look while he watched some little girls playing and said with a smile, "Mommy, I was going to say we don't have any girls...but you're a girl, and Eliana's a girl...she's our girl Mommy." So sweet.

At kindergarten Caedmon was featured to tell about himself and have the other kids ask him questions one day. He came home and told me "I told them I have two brothers, but I didn't tell them I had a sister. I decided to keep it a secret." Then he said he doesn't like to talk about her because it makes him sad.

For me, sometimes I am like Jayden. I can think of her and talk about her freely with a smile, feeling thankful for the beautiful blessing of her life, and joy that she is in heaven. Many times, I am more like Caedmon. I have her tucked away safely in my heart, and it feels almost too sacred to disclose. When asked about my children, I often tell people I have three boys and leave it at that, thinking to myself "and a princess in heaven..." I know now that I don't have to talk about her to prove my love for her, it is etched so deeply and permanently on my heart that it has just become a part of who I am. Whether I speak or fall silent, I am always and forever her mother and that is something that cannot be erased by the separation of time, space, or realm.

Sometimes when holding Ben I kiss him an extra time or squeeze him a little tighter as I think of Eliana. There are moments of sadness for what might have been with her, but it also makes loving him all the sweeter. My heart is full of a deeper knowledge of what a treasure and miracle he is, because of the understanding that she gave me. God has truly blessed us, many times over with these sweet little ones.

God is so good...

God is so good...

God is so good...

He's so good to me...

A Walk to Remember

2010-10-10T23:16:00.007-05:00

Yesterday was 17 months since the day you were in our arms. I still speak your name every day. Sometimes now, it is spoken quietly in my heart, and other times we speak it out loud as we daydream about what you might be like now if you were here, or look back in rememberance of the short time you were growing in my womb, and the brief moments we held you.

Today, we walked to remember you, joining so many others whose babies are exploring heaven with you. We walked to a special memory garden and laid a white rose for you at the feet of the Hope Angel, and today, we spoke your name out loud to as many as would listen. Eliana Grace, we speak your name to say that we miss you, we love you so very much, we want the world to know: you are real, you were here, and even as you live forever in heaven, you remain alive forever here with us in our hearts. We will never stop speaking your name, and we will always long for the day that our faith becomes sight and our hope becomes a realty--that day when we hold you again in heaven.

A Walk to Remember

by Kathie Ratoj Mayo

I walk to remember
the steps you'll never take.
I carry you with me
as I firmly plant my feet.
Our trek started long ago,
before my belly swelled.
You were a love that grew-
like butterfly wings that beat.
Your gently flutters then became
kicks upon which I would dwell.
And I would talk to you, sweet babe,
about the world you soon would meet.

The sun always shone upon us then-
when you were in my womb.
And I was eager to show you the world
that would have been your home.
How you'd have loved the sun shining-
blue skies without a cloud.
The autumn leaves turning-
the snow falling all around.
The flowers in summer-
would have filled your eyes with smiles.
And the rain that might have fallen
would have caused you great surprise.

You would have traveled far with me-
holding me by the hand,
And I'd have shown you all I could-
more than I can imagine.

You hold my heart tightly now,
as though we're holding hands.
How far we've traveled, little one-
and my life with you has been sweet.
For I carry you in my heart,
as I firmly plant my feet.

16 Months

2010-09-09T22:44:00.003-05:00

It's been...
sixteen months since we held you
sixteen months since we had to let you go...
you would fit so perfectly into our lives,
and you still fit so beautifully into our hearts.
Wishing I could hold your sweet toddler hand in mine, and lead your wobbly steps beside me down life's uncertain path, but He has made your path so straight down those streets of gold. And one day it is you who will take my hand and guide me down that path.
Loving you always, sweet baby girl.

Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.

First Day of School

2010-08-25T20:58:00.004-05:00

I can't believe today I dropped that sweet baby off to kindergarten for the first time!! My oldest son Caedmon is already in school. We chose to do half day kindergarten for a smoother transition from home-schooling last year, and so that I can still work with him at home in the afternoon when there's time. He's been nervous about it all summer, and every time someone would mention it he would say "I'm not going to kindergarten!" but I love that after praying about it with him and going to the open house, he was excited to go, and couldn't wait until this morning came.

It also just came out yesterday that after seeing a scene of corporal punishment on Anne of Green Gables some time ago he was afraid that he was going to get a "spanking on the hands" from the teacher! If only I had known that earlier this summer I could have reassured him sooner, poor kid! Who knew that movie would traumatize a child! Once we got that cleared up he definitely relaxed more and when I picked him up today he was all smiles and excitement about the year ahead.

It's hard to believe this sweet boy who was not-so-long-ago my baby is now going to school. There are so many moments like this that I wish I could freeze in time. Watching him walk into his classroom today reminded me of how quickly he will be grown and going out into the world. I know it seems a little silly when he's only 5, but as quickly as these years have gone, I know the next ones will fly by even faster, and I will look back and wish I could revisit today.

Caedmon going to open house:

About to get in the car on the first day of school:

Sitting at his desk for the first time:

Jayden wished he could go too, but got to spend the morning on his scooter

Now, Ben, promise me you will not be going to kindergarten any time soon!

2010-08-17T21:23:00.002-05:00

When I wrote my previous post, I had intended to come back the next day to explain more about the significance of Saturday's date, but the last few days have been so busy I am only now getting to do that. Saturday marked not the anniversary of Eliana's death, but one year from her due-date. We said hello and good bye to her on May 9th of last year, after almost 26 weeks of pregnancy. My due date was August 14th, so that time holds a lot of importance for me too.

I've been thinking about Eliana so much lately, and just feeling the weight of her absence even more than usual. It took me a little while to realize, that's because it is August. We've done some of the same things we did last year at this time, and it just brings back the depth of sadness and longing that we had then, realizing that she would have been in our arms had she lived. I remember attending the Balloon Classic and the State Fair, seeing her in every tiny baby that we passed by, and just feeling such an ache.

This year I saw her again in chubby-faced pig-tailed toddlers, heard her in their laughter, and felt her absence in their presence. She would have turned one in this last week, maybe Saturday, and when I close my eyes to think about it, I am really almost there with her, watching her enjoy the beautiful day.

What Might Have Been

2010-08-14T23:54:00.006-05:00

I'm rushing around with last minute details in the kitchen as I hear her laughing from the other room. I hand Mark the ice cream and butterfly cake, and then squeeze past him to get a view of her face as he sets them down in front of her and lights the candles. Her eyes light up and sparkle when she sees it and she claps her hands.

She sits in her booster, squirming and reaching to grab her cake. Only moments ago she was toddling around the room and had to be corralled by Grandma to get her confined in the seat. She took her first steps a month ago, but only this week started really getting places, just in time for today.

I see her looking so cute, still my baby, but really starting to look like a little girl. Her hair has gotten longer, so she just barely has pig tails today and looks so pretty in the colorful dress I had chosen during my pregnancy and saved for this occasion.

How quickly a year has gone, so many firsts and so much laughter...

As soon as she gets her piece of cake she digs right in and squishes it all up between her fingers, then she decides to taste it, and by the end she is basically wearing it, not just all over her face, but even in her hair and on her dress!

Daddy cleans her up, and she can't wait to get down and play. She toddles over to me and hides behind my legs, peeking out and giggling at Grandpa. Soon she starts to open presents. This is a new concept, and I end up opening most of them for her. She seems more interested in crinkling the wrapping paper and playing with the boxes than the actual gifts, but when we give her the baby doll we got for her she squeezes it tight and we snap a picture. Then she gives me a big hug like she knows that she is the dolly's Mommy just like I am her Mommy.

What a perfect day...

Of course all of this is only the shadow of what might have been. When I close my eyes, I can see her, and I can almost hear us singing
"Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Eliana, Happy Birthday to you..."

10 Years Together

2010-07-29T17:18:00.007-05:00

Today I am celebrating ten years of marriage with the man who God hand-picked for me to share my life with. On a Saturday in August 1999, I met him the first day on my college campus after praying that God would bring me a Christian friend. I was thinking of a girl, but little did I know He had other plans.

Mark and I hit it off from the beginning, learning that we had a lot in common such as our faith, working at summer camps, an interest in missions work, and music. I was a music major, and we played in the marching band and concert band together. I was also looking for a church, so he invited me to his and began picking me up every Sunday. We became involved in the same campus ministries, and soon we were spending nearly every waking moment together. What started out as an awesome friendship turned into romance, and we made our relationship official in November of '99.

We were engaged in March of '00, and married July 29, 2000. I was 19 and he was 21. We were young, but felt strongly that God had led us together, and His blessing was on our marriage. The story of our life together was just beginning.

Over the next four years, Mark finished his degree in Information Systems and joined the workforce, and I finished my double major in Music Education and Flute Performance. In November '03 we were surprised and delighted to find out we were expecting a little firecracker, due in July. Just two weeks later we found out we had miscarried, but already loved that baby so much, and in our hearts had become a mommy and daddy. At the end of January '04, we found out God had provided us another Little Miracle, due in September. That was the beginning of the chapter in our story called Parenting.

We had our first son Caedmon Sept. 22, 2004. Then in January 2007 we were blessed with another wonderful son, Jayden. In Dec. 2008 we found out we were pregnant again and learned in March '09 that our baby was a little girl. We had no idea that we would only have her for 26 weeks in the womb, before she went to heaven. Then began the chapter of Grief.

In October 2009 we learned we were pregnant again with our son Benjamin, and learned during the pregnancy that we are both carriers of the Cystic Fibrosis gene. Ben was born June 21st, and officially diagnosed with CF July 6th at 2 weeks old. Now we begin a new chapter with him.

Our story these first ten years hasn't turned out exactly as we had imagined. It has been filled with a lot more heartache than we would've guessed, but still so much joy and so many amazing blessings along the way. We've learned to be there for each other, help each other, and be patient with each other, and most importantly we've learned that when it's more than we can bear on our own, God is always and forever enough! We have learned so well the meaning of these verses read at every wedding.
Ecclesiates 4:9-12
Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Two are certainly better than one, I could never do it without my husband by my side, leading and loving our family, providing strength when I have none. And the third strand of the cord is by far the most steadfast, as we look to God when we come to the end of ourselves.

In these ten years, we have learned so many things. A few are:
*laughter can fix anything,
*always smile and give each other a hug during the first five minutes together at the end of the day, it makes all the difference,
*romance can come in all kinds of ways, even if it's just having the energy left after all the kids are in bed to talk over a bowl of chocolate ice cream
*The deepest form of love looks different than you would think, and often takes the shape of two broken people holding each other through their tears

Mark, thank you so much for ten years of traveling this road side by side, I look forward to living the rest of our story together!

Thoughts and Test Results

2010-07-19T18:52:00.003-05:00

Today we got the results back from Benjamin's stool sample that showed that he is pancreatic insufficient. This means that the thickened mucous caused by Cystic Fibrosis is blocking his pancreas from being able to release digestive enzymes needed to break down his food. We had already started giving him extra enzymes before each feeding these last two weeks, so this just confirmed what we already suspected. Still, somehow hearing the definitive answer just made my heart ache today.

I guess in some ways, maybe I've been a bit in denial about the disease, because my little guy just looks so healthy and perfect. To hear his test result just further confirms the reality of his situation, and while he is doing well, it just hurts to think of him being so dependent on these daily regimens to keep him healthy, and ultimately, alive.

One of my primary feelings after losing Eliana was disorientation. It was like our lives were headed down a certain path, and then all of a sudden the path dropped off into a black hole, only to come out again on an entirely different path.

I can't say that feeling has left me entirely, and maybe it never will. At times now, my grief over Eliana, and Benjamin's diagnosis seem intermingled. One has flowed so quickly into the other, and it is just a lot to experience in the span of a year. Knowing CF is a life-shortening disease, coupled with my all too recent first-hand knowledge of what it's like to lose a child is sometimes just too much. Even though modern treatments are significantly prolonging the lives of CF patients, knowing what it would be like without all the extra things available scares me. I really can't bare the thought of ever losing him, and can't allow my mind to go there.

After Eliana's death, so many things we were dealing with just seemed so surreal. Walking out of the hospital empty-handed, walking into a funeral home to make arrangements for our daughter, and so many other things. Now, I again have that feeling as I feed applesauce mixed with enzymes to my newborn before every feeding just so he can digest his food, and as I "thump" him on his back, sides, and chest twice a day, to loosen up mucous, and ultimately to keep him breathing. I just have to think of it on a day to day basis rather than the long-term, because the reality is, I am saving his life a little bit every day.

I think of the passage in 2 Cor. 10 that talks about taking every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ. I know thinking negatively about these things is not good for Benjamin or me, and isn't pleasing to the Lord. I have to constantly give these thoughts to Him, and ask Him to help me see it through His eyes. I'm sure this will always be a battle, but I know I can trust God to carry the burdens that I so often try to shoulder on my own.

One thing about CF is that I really don't know Benjamin's prognosis, because research is being done every day to improve the outlook, and it continues to look brighter every year for CF patients. They even think they are close to a cure, and until then they are coming up with drugs that are extremely effective in fighting off infections and keeping the lungs clear. With all of this in mind, there is no way to know what lies ahead for Benjamin, so I am going to pray and believe for the best.

Today, though, I am just weary in my frail humanity. Tired from a year+ of grieving, and not seeing an end in sight. I love this little boy as much as humanly possible, and really wished I could have spared him this disease. Still, I have to believe that God's plan is always best, and I pray we will be able to glorify Him in this. Our greatest prayer for Benjamin is for him to grow up to love and follow God, and to live his life to the fullest for Him.

I've been thinking a lot of Eliana today. Mark and I were noticing as Ben was sleeping how much he reminds us of her, his mouth, chin, cheeks, and today even his eyes when they were closed. Each of these babies a gift from God, so precious to Him and so dearly loved by us.
Lord, thank you for all of our precious children, hold them in your hands, bless them, and may your will be done in and through each of their lives.

Here's a sweet picture of Ben looking at Eliana's bear. It now belongs to him, a gift from his big sister in heaven.

We do not...grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again. 1 Thess. 4:13-14

Know therefore that the LORD your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commands. Deuteronomy 7:9

Time Flies

2010-07-15T20:22:00.009-05:00

I can't believe how quickly the last 3 1/2 weeks have flown by since Benjamin was born! I guess I had forgotten just how very full each minute becomes with a newborn! We have been keeping very busy these days just taking care of these three precious little ones that God has blessed us with.

On June 27th, when Benjamin was 6 days old, Caedmon was baptized, and my husband had the privilege of doing it. Caedmon told us that he wanted to let everyone know that he had decided to follow Jesus! The water was too deep for him to stand, so Mark just dunked him in his arms. What a special day in Caedmon's life and ours.

We celebrated the 4th of July with my family. Here is Benjamin in a celebrating mood.

The kids had fun playing Nin.tendo W.ii, watching fireworks, and doing sparklers.

Caedmon and Jayden have had swimming lessons each morning these last two weeks. Caedmon has become quite the little swimmer, and Jayden has gotten more comfortable in the water than ever.

We've all been having fun getting used to our new little guy, and his big brothers love him to pieces! Good thing he has two warriors around to love him and look out for him!

Here are a few more shots of the most lovable baby boy in the world:

Ben has been doing so great. He is an awesome little sleeper. Most nights he has a long stretch of sleep that ranges from 5-7 hours, and then he always goes back to sleep for 2-3 more hours before he eats again. He does have kind of a bad habit of staying awake a lot during the morning and afternoon, and napping in the evening so his actual bedtime usually starts pretty late. But I can't really complain too much! He's been smiling more and more lately, and has seemed to smile even from birth. Yesterday he made his first cooing sounds during our appointment at the CF clinic. What a sweetheart. Every time he smiles it almost makes me cry because I know just how precious and fleeting these moments are, and how blessed we are to be having them with him.

In relation to CF, he is also doing great! The dietitian was really impressed with his growth yesterday. He gained 14 oz. in a week, and is up to 9 lb. 8 oz. I feel so much better about his health now that he has a little more chub like his brothers did. His lungs are clear, so he really is a healthy little boy right now and we couldn't be happier! He is still dealing with some stomach aches and we're trying to pinpoint the cause, but that is our only issue right now, and is likely just normal newborn stuff, not necessarily related to CF. We have another appointment at the clinic next week to track his growth again. We're praying for his continued good health and rapid growth.

A Good Night's Sleep

2010-07-09T08:31:00.003-05:00

Just wanted to say, after a rough evening for Benjamin, he slept all night, from 11:45 until almost 7, and he's back asleep now! That is a good sign that his little tummy was able to stay satisfied that long, and now Mommy feels better too after getting some much needed rest!! A good night's sleep makes all the differene. Now, off to swimming lessons.

Starting Ben's CF treatments

2010-07-08T20:51:00.003-05:00

This week has been such a whirlwind of activity, and now, a moment of quiet to reflect. My two big boys are tucked into their beds, and Benjamin is sleeping on his Daddy's chest while he watches TV.

This week, through a series of three different tests, Benjamin's diagnosis of Cystic Fibrosis was made official. Wednesday he had the sweat test, the standard way to diagnose the disease because people with CF have more sodium chloride in their sweat.

I took him to the hospital, where they attached electrodes to his arms that would send a small electric current into him to cause him to sweat in that area. This had to stay in place for five minutes on each arm. It was hard to see him hooked up to those electrodes, as I tried not to imagine him being hooked up to medical equipment in the future, suffering complications of CF. To make matters worse, I had to hold his arm out straight the whole time, and he cried and cried because he didn't like the feeling of confinement.

After the time was up they put a gauze strip on his arms to collect the sweat, and wrapped them both in plastic for ten minutes. During that time I got to wrap him up in a blanket while he nursed, so the bad part was over.

We received the positive results a couple hours later when he went to the regular ped. for his 2 week appointment. A level greater than 60 is considered a positive result, and his was a 94 on one arm and 106 on the other. After receiving the genetic results, this didn't come as a big surprise, but it was deflating to get that final diagnosis.

Yesterday Mark, Benjamin and I had our first meeting with the Cystic Fibrosis team of specialists that he will see throughout his life. We spent the morning receiving a lot of information, and came away feeling encouraged. To start with, we are treating the two main symptoms of CF: digestive and lung problems. Benjamin has been doing pretty well over all, but he had been nursing very frequently, and then having frequent large stools to the point where I was feeling depleted, and wondering if he was really digesting all the calories he was taking in. So, they started him on a digestive enzyme called Creon. He takes a little bit of it with a tiny amount of applesauce before each feeding. With CF, the pacreas often becomes insufficient because of secretions being too thick, and that is what they think was happening with Ben. They are testing a stool sample to be sure, but wanted him to start the enzymes right away so he is able to absorb what he eats.

We found out his weight to height ratio is only in the 22nd percentile, and they like to see CF kids at the 50th or above. I was told that sometimes kids come in for the first time, and they are below the chart. If I hadn't been nursing him frequently on demand, they thought he would be doing much worse. Finding this out was the saddest part of the appointment, because it was the first time we had to realize he was already suffering some of the effects of the disease. Since starting the enzymes yesterday, I feel better because he has been lasting longer between feedings, and seems more satisfied. Before, anytime someone would hold him against them, he would automatically start bobbing his head like a little woodpecker trying to find a nipple to latch onto!

Relating to digestion, he also has to have a liquid multi-vitamin every day, and 1/8th tsp salt. So far I haven't succeeded with the salt. I'm supposed to give it to him little by little over the course of the day by dipping my finger in and putting a little on his tongue. The first time I tried it today, he gagged and spit it back up and then refused to nurse. I'll try again tomorrow, starting with a little less on my finger.

So far his lungs sound clear, but we've started chest therapy as a preventative measure. For 20 minutes twice a day we have to pat him in different spots on his chest and back to loosen up mucous.

So, that's the gist of it so far. Today was the first day doing his treatments, and aside from the salt it has gone fine. Three of his feedings were still only two hours apart, and they prefer I stretch him to 2 1/2 or 3, but it's still an improvement from before.

It's definitely overwhelming, and right now I'd have to say we're pretty much in survival mode. Going on very little sleep, and just doing the next thing that needs done at the moment as the day progresses (while many things are left undone.) I'm sure we'll get down to a good routine soon, and I'll start breathing much easier when he begins to grow and hopefully put on a good amount of baby fat. That's our number one prayer request right now, along with just getting into a routine where I can manage Benjamin's needs while balancing it with the needs of my other two children. I really want to have quality time with them and provide them an enriching environment, but I know that will come with time.

I'll close for now because this post has taken longer than expected and it's gotten late. What began as peace and quiet lasted only a moment, and was interrupted by my three year old getting out of bed several times, Benjamin crying with a bad stomach ache, and my husband's announcement that a Pull-up went through the laundry and all the clothes are covered with particles. Hopefully I can get this little guy to bed, so I can rest up for another eventful day! Oh-and I also had the bright idea of signing the boys up for early morning swimming lessons for two weeks, so that's the first thing on the agenda for tomorrow.
If anyone wants to know more about CF, the best source of accurate info is www.cff.org.

Our Sweet Ben

2010-07-01T22:01:00.004-05:00

I wanted to write a post today, updating about our sweet Ben, and how well he's been doing, how much we've been enjoying him, and what a blessing he is. All this is very true, and so much more could be said, but unfortunately I have a different post for tonight.

We had a busy day today with a portrait sitting, visiting my husband's work to show off the new baby, a trip to the park for the big boys to play and ride bikes, and then out for ice cream. In my rush to get out the door for the photo appointment, I had forgotten to grab my cell phone, so when I got home this evening, we had messages on both our phones. Some were from the pediatrician's office, so I knew they might have gotten the results from Benjamin's newborn screening and called back right away. I had to leave a message, and then waited for the return phone call.

The phone nurse told me that the genetic test results had come back, showing that our son has two copies of the mutated gene for Cystic Fibrosis, indicating that he "most likely" has the disease. I was confused at first, because I had been told that first we would get the results from the newborn screening, that if positive would only tell us that he was either a carrier or had the disease, and we wouldn't know which until we did a follow-up test. She proceeded to read the letter to me word for word, which indicated that he had failed the initial screening, so they had already done the follow-up genetic test, and the result showed him positive for Cystic Fibrosis. I was completely unprepared to hear this news. The tears began as she continued explaining that the office will call us in the morning to talk to us about scheduling the next step in diagnosis, the sweat test, which will be done at the cystic fibrosis center. How I had hoped never to step into that place.

So, an official diagnosis won't be made until the sweat test, but with a failed newborn screen and a positive genetic test, we just have to come to terms with what we're most likely dealing with.

My first reaction is just to look at him and cry. He is so beautiful, so perfect, fearfully and wonderfully made. How can he really have this disease? I hold him and wish that I could transfer every defective gene from his body into my own. How can this be? And how, after last year, can we again be faced with such a devastating verdict for one of our children?

Tonight, I can only say, Jesus is the same yesterday, today, forever. He is the same God we were praising in the hospital upon Benjamin's safe delivery, the same God whose goodness I felt in its entirety as I gazed at him for the first time. Is He any less good in light of this? The supernatural peace He gave us about Benjamin in the last couple months of pregnancy still remains for us to take hold of. There is a reason that the peace I felt was not the assurance that Ben wouldn't have CF, it was the assurance that the God we serve is loving, and great, and strong, and that His grace would be sufficient for us in any circumstance. My hopes were high for a healthy baby, but he is here safely in our arms, and he is in the hands of the Almighty God whose plan for Benjamin was written out before he, or I ever came to be.

Missing You

2010-06-26T09:11:00.004-05:00

Oh Eliana, we just love and miss you so much. As we enjoy and fall in love with your sweet baby brother, your big brothers, Daddy, and I are reminded even more of you, and all those moments that we missed together. At dinner last night, we were all just talking about you. Jayden said a little prayer asking God for you not to be in heaven, and he asked me, "Don't you want Eliana to come back from heaven, Mommy?" I told him that I miss you and wish very much that you were here with us, but you're so happy in heaven we wouldn't want you to have to leave. Caedmon said he wishes that you were here sleeping, drinking mommy's milk, and getting your diaper changed like Benjamin. We all agreed that we wish we could have both of our babies here. Soon I had to leave the table because I was just missing you so much.

Just then Ben was waking up and wanted to eat. Sometimes when I look at him, I see you too. He has your mouth and chin, and I can just picture holding you, talking to you, and nursing you...all those special moments that exist only in my imagination. When I hold him close, my love for him is just so deep, and I'm so grateful to be able to express it to him, but it hurts, knowing I will never be able to do this with you. You deserve all the love that this world has to offer, but as I type I'm reminded that this world doesn't really have a whole lot to offer, in comparison with all the love of God, in it's infinite fullness, that you are wrapped in.

*thank you to Mary for this beautiful drawing!

Ephesians 3:17-19
And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

God is so Good

2010-06-23T22:21:00.004-05:00

Our sweet little man Benjamin Joseph was born Monday, June 21st at 4:32 PM. He wasn't as big as we expected, weighing in at 8 lb., 2 oz. and 21 in. long. He is the first of our children to be born with a head full of blond hair! The labor and delivery went great. I was hoping to have a natural birth, and was able to do so minus the pitocin. He did have the cord loosely wrapped, and was a little slow to breath/cry, so he came out looking blue, but quickly turned a healthy pink. The first moments of holding him were heaven on earth.

He continued to do well throughout our hospital stay, and had no signs of intestinal blockage at this point, which was a concern during the pregnancy. Praise God!! He had his newborn screening, but we are still awaiting those results to find out if he has CF.
We had so much fun in the hospital just enjoying him, and rejoicing over the goodness of God. We have clung to the truth of His goodness by faith this last year, but this week, we have experienced it in all it's fullness!!

Our time in the hospital seemed to go by so quickly, and soon we were getting him all dressed and ready to take him home!

How amazing to bring him in his carseat, drive him home, and carry him into our house. After such a long journey, he is finally here, in our arms and in our lives!!

All the men in my life--God is so immeasurably good!!

Baby June update

2010-06-18T20:42:00.003-05:00

Today we learned that Baby June will definitely not be Baby July!:) Today we were scheduled to come in Monday morning to induce labor if our little man doesn't decide to make his entrance any sooner. Wow, in only three days (or less!)he will really be here! This pregnancy has seemed like such a long journey, it is hard to believe it's now coming to completion.

We thought last night might lead to a trip to the hospital because I was having contractions for a few hours, but they slowed and eventually stopped altogether. With our second son this happened about 24 hours before I actually did go into labor, so I'm hoping this time too it was a little warning to hurry and get things done because he is on the way. I would love to go into labor on my own instead of the induction. I'm still hoping to have as natural of a birth as possible, but ultimately all I really care about is getting him here safely, whatever it takes!!

We really appreciate your prayers for a safe delivery. One concern is his size. Our first son had his collarbone broken during delivery because he was so big, and his shoulders were stuck after his head was delivered. This baby is likely to be as big, so we're hoping to avoid any complications. That is the main reason for the induction being scheduled a week before his due-date. Other than that, everything has been going well and there are no other risk factors that we're aware of.

For now, it's time to go and finish up some last minute things, and enjoy this last little bit of pregnancy before holding our beautiful boy.

2010-06-14T19:51:00.004-05:00

There is a longing that grows deeper still these days. In our bedroom is an empty crib. In the living room sits an empty swing and a bouncy seat. The changing table is filled with diapers and tiny clothes neatly folded. And I want to hold my baby.

I want so much to hold my baby that never got to feel the warmth of her mother's arms. That sweet little girl who was never tucked into her crib, and never laid in the swing purchased for her just weeks before she left this world. I never got to dress her in her little clothes, or change her diaper, never really got to mother her in this sense of the word.

As we do these last minute things to prepare for our baby boy; getting out the baby tub, the blankets, the burp rags, each one is a reminder of all the things I didn't get to do for Eliana. There is a longing that will never go away, even as it might change shape with the passage of time, and changing life circumstances, there is a place in my heart that will forever be hers, always yearning and reaching for her until we meet again.

And now, I long so much to hold her little brother. He is growing so big and seems to be running out of space, and I am just so ready to meet him. I can hardly wait for him to fill these empty arms, the empty swing, the empty crib. And when I think of him now, it's no longer bittersweet. He brings his own feelings of pure sweetness and joy when I think about how much I love him, and how we long for him to be in our lives just for who he is.

Even as the empty crib is a symbol of heartache and brokenness, it is a symbol of great hope and promise, beckoning me backward in love to Eliana, and forward in faith to our son's imminent birth. Like the symbol of a rainbow in the sky, our Rainbow Baby, God's promise of grace and beauty following pain. The effects of sunshine after a storm, an image of His love and His greatness, and the overall goodness of His often incomprehensible plan.

There is a deep longing that grows deeper still--to hold my baby. To hold our precious little boy and watch him breath and blink and squirm, and to one day hold our daughter again, in the absence of all longing, in the presence of the Rainbow Maker--never to face another storm.

38 week update

2010-06-14T19:31:00.003-05:00

Today I got to spend most of the day listening to my baby's heartbeat, and seeing him on ultrasound. I had my 38 week appointment at 11:30, beginning with an ultrasound. They do a bio-physical profile each time, measuring the amniotic fluid, looking for movement, and practice breathing, and he gets a score based on that information. Every time he has been practice breathing throughout the session. This time they gave him just a little over the maximum 1/2 hr limit, and he only did it a couple times, which they said didn't count. So, for the first time he didn't receive a perfect score. After that I had the NST, which charts the baby's heart-rate, looking for the right accelerations in response to his movements. That part went great, but when I saw the Dr. she said that since he didn't score perfect on the BPP, I had the option of going for extended monitoring. Of course I wanted to be sure he was okay, so that's what I chose to do.

Over to the hospital I went, where I was put back on the monitors and his heartbeat continued to sound good. Even though I've done it week after week now, I never get tired of hearing that wonderful sound!! After about 1 1/2 hours, and 1 1/2 episodes of Cold Case I was called in for an ultrasound. He did well right away with movements, and she started taking lots of measurements. This was a better machine than the one at the office, where he had measured an estimated 8 lb., and this time he measured 8 lb, 14 oz.!! At the office they were having a hard time getting a tummy measurement because he was kind of scrunched up, but this time he was more spread out so I think they got the more accurate measurements. He is turning into one chunky monkey!! The tech asked me if we had set a date for induction yet, and I realized that they probably would have mentioned that if we hadn't been so focused on the test results, so I might call back tomorrow just to see if we can get something set up.

I'm getting a little nervous about him being so big, because my first son was 9 lb. 6 oz, and he had a difficult delivery and ended up with a broken collarbone at birth because his shoulders got stuck. This can be very risky during delivery so I really hope that doesn't happen again this time around! With that in mind, I would love to get him here even today!!!

He finally cooperated and did his breathing motions, and we were given the perfect score and the green light to go home. It was 4 by the time I left there, and by this time I was starving and exhausted, and after lying on the hospital beds focusing so much on the baby, I wished I was getting to take him home with me!! But, I'm so thankful he still appears to be doing great, and it is only a matter of time before he's here!!

Baby June is Coming Soon!

2010-06-05T13:18:00.002-05:00

Today we took the boys to the sibling class at Mercy Hospital where each of our babies have been born. They got to learn about how to hold a baby, and even practiced diapering and swaddling the baby dolls. We got to see the birthing room, and peek in the nursery where the nurses held up some newborns for the children to look at. At first the boys were hesitant to even go to the class, but I think they did enjoy it and learned something from it. Overall, I don't think anything will really prepare them for the baby's arrival, it will just happen suddenly and then all the adjusting will need to take place. Especially since they have experienced having a baby that they didn't get to take home, I think they will be taken by surprise by the whole experience.

I'm really looking forward to seeing them interact with their little brother. Both of them have said they want to help, and Jayden (3 1/2)assures me every now and then that he will share his toys with the baby, and I explain that at first the baby won't be able to play with anything. Caedmon (5 1/2) remembers when Jayden was a baby and he would always bring me a diaper or the paci, so he's looking forward to doing those things again. He also wants to help give the baby a bath, so it looks like I will have some eager volunteers for all of the baby's care. I've been worried about how I will spend enough time with each child, but I think we'll just all have to interact together, and my time with the older ones will often involve including them in what I do with the baby. Of course we'll still make time for reading books and some of their other favorite activities.

I can't believe he will be here so soon! My due-date is only 23 days away, and there's a good chance he will come sooner. Thursday at my appointment I was 2-3 cm and the Dr. could feel his head. She said "Looks like this baby wants to come soon!" Unfortunately soon is a relative word, which can seem much longer from the patient's perspective! There is really no guarantee that he'll come early, but I was excited to know that I'm progressing, and have really kicked it into high gear checking things off our long to-do list just in case. It would be nice if he would come early because at my ultrasound at 35 weeks they estimated that he was already just over 7 lbs. At that rate he will be huge by 40 weeks!!

As close as we're getting, it still seems unreal for the most part. I don't think it will really hit me until I'm holding him in my arms. I remember when I first found out I was pregnant, June seemed an eternity away, and now here we are!

In all of this, we are missing Eliana, and remembering the time we spent in the hospital with her. Those few fleeting moments we saw her face, and felt the weight of her in our arms. If she was with us now, she would be crawling everywhere and probably pulling up on the furniture, keeping us very busy and our hands would be so full with another baby about to be born! How sweet it would be...
Wishing we could have them both, but so happy to have our little boy soon!

Josephine Victoria

2010-05-30T22:07:00.005-05:00

I could hear her newborn cry over the telephone, and with tears in my eyes I told my husband and boys good bye and hopped in the car. (okay it's not really hopping these days, more like waddling, and then squeezing in behind the wheel!) Feeling happy and excited, and emotional and anxious at the same time, I prayed as I drove to the hospital. I was glad to find a parking place right away, and took a deep breath as I walked up, passing the Hope angel and memorial garden for Eliana and all the babies in heaven who were born at Mercy, went inside and took the elevator to the mother and baby floor where I knew I would see her in the nursery.

My mom greeted me with a smile as I got off the elevator and my heart felt lighter as we walked together to peer into the window, and I got my first glimpse of my precious little niece Josephine Victoria. She was beautiful like her big sister, with a head full of dark hair like both of her siblings when they were born, and I was instantly in love with her.

After watching her being poked and prodded for a little bit, we took the elevator up a floor to labor and delivery so I could see my sister. This was my first time to venture to either of these places since I was there with Eliana last year. I took deep breaths as we walked past the huge blown up photos of adorable, healthy newborns that line the corridors, and into her birthing suite to congratulate her, and hear all about how the delivery went.

I'm so glad I had the opportunity to do this before I go again to give birth in the next few weeks. It was definitely good to see that everything went fine with her, and just to be able to face being in that environment again in a different situation. Most of all, so good to just hold and love that healthy little baby, and be reminded once again that miracles happen every day.
Just look at this sweet little gift from God!!
Josephine Victoria
7 lb. 5 oz.
May 24th, 2010

It got a little wild and crazy up there when my Mom and I brought my two boys along with my sister's son and daughter. I didn't get a lot of good pics because I was taking photos for my sister with her camera a lot of the time, but did come away with a few. Both of my boys seemed a little hesitant and unsure about the whole thing, but hopefully this will prepare them a little better for when their brother is born!

Although Jayden looks less than thrilled to be holding her, we're all so glad she's here safely and look forward to spending a lot more time getting to know her. Congratulations Shanya and Josh, and big sister Julia and big brother Joven!!!

Eliana's Birthday

2010-05-10T10:44:00.011-05:00

Crystal at Calvin's Cupcakes made Eliana this adorable cupcake for her first birthday.

Mary sent two more beautiful works of art, including a birthday one!

The days leading up to Eliana's birthday/Mother's Day were emotional ones with the anticipation of what was to come. We were praying that the actual day could be a peaceful one, and even a happy time of remembering Eliana and thinking of her in heaven. We also prayed for good weather because we had plans to do a butterfly release at the cemetary. We've been having a lot of rain and cooler temperatures lately so I was worried that the butterflies wouldn't be able to fly.

God answered yes to all of those prayers. It was warmer and sunnier than forcasted, without a hint of rain. Of course I had a mixture of emotions on that day, but we were able to have a special remembrance time that honored Eliana's life and glorified God. My husband shared from Psalm 139, and we sang Jesus Loves Me, the first song we have taught to each of our children. I always find those words "Little ones to Him belong" bittersweet now, and a little harder to sing out loud. But, what comforting truth is found in those simple words.

The butterfly release was really special. There is just something about seeing those beautiful creatures fly to freedom that warms my heart when I think of Eliana, even as it saddens me at the same time. We're so thankful to Butterflies and Prayers for arranging for the donation of butterflies, and to Wish Upon a Butterfly, the company who chose to donate to us.

The story of Eliana's day is really best told in pictures:

My oldest son wanted to make her dinosaur cupcakes, because he had told her about dinosaurs when she was in the womb.

I made her a butterfly cake, of course.

We wished so much she could be with us, but it was special to watch the other kids at her "party" have fun and enjoy eating cake and ice cream like they would if she was here.

Getting lots of love from my boys on "Mommy's Day" as it's traditionally called at our house.

Eliana's big brothers holding her marker. It was supposed to be placed in the ground, but the wrong granite came in, so we just had the bronze part of it. It's hard to see in these shots, but it says
Eliana Grace Kline
Fearfully and Wonderfully Made
May 9, 2009

The highlight of Eliana's first birthday was the butterfly release!

It was a day full of beauty, just like the special little girl we were celebrating.

One Year

2010-05-08T12:50:00.004-05:00

One Year…

I miss Eliana, and think of her every day. All week there has been a heaviness on my heart, and it has been harder to breath. But today, my heart is just broken. One year ago today, at this very moment, I sat alone in the Dr.’s office, waiting for my husband to arrive after learning that our daughter was no longer living. The saddest day of my life.

Now today, we have things to plan and do to be ready for Eliana’s 1st birthday in heaven tomorrow, but all we can do is just miss her. We have a special day planned with cake and ice cream, and a butterfly release at the cemetery, but it’s hard to make a cake, get balloons, and prepare a party for your child who is no longer with you. It all just feels so empty, like meager attempts to drown out the silence left by her absence. We want to celebrate her little life, and rejoice that she has been enjoying heaven for a year, but at the same time, what are her Mommy and Daddy to do but just miss her? It’s heart breaking that she won’t be here to smash her strawberry butterfly cake all over her face, or smile and laugh at the little butterflies that will take off all around us. Today the ache is just so deep, and even with our little boys around, the house is so, so quiet.

One year seems a long time, but for us who are grieving, we are back to last year like it was yesterday. It all comes back so vividly, as we think of one whole year of our lives going by without her. There is so much we have missed this year, and so much we will always miss on this earth.

Lately my three-year-old son has been talking about his sister more and more. Sometimes he still gets confused because I have been pregnant for so long. He will say something about Eliana in mommy’s tummy, and then we go through a little ritual:
“Jayden, is Eliana in Mommy’s tummy?”
“No”
“Who is in Mommy’s tummy?”
“Baby Brother.”
“Where is Eliana?”
Then his face always lights up with the biggest smile and he says,
“She’s in heaven with Jesus!”
“Will she come back?”
Sometimes he answers no, and sometimes yes, and the conversation continues accordingly.
Today we were talking about the new baby coming soon, and he said
“I want Eliana to come home to our house,”
And we had our same conversation about heaven. Then he got the saddest, pouty face he can make and said,
“Mommy, I wanted both of my babies to come home…”
Holding back the tears I answered “I know baby, me too.”

Yesterday in the van my oldest son Caedmon was teary-eyed when he said,
“I wish I had gotten to see Eliana…” I reminded him that he did see her, but he said,
“No, I wanted to see her alive.”
“I know Sweetie, we all wish that…”

Our little ones are so sensitive and intuitive it catches me off guard sometimes. It’s so sweet to see how they love their little sister, but so heartbreaking to see them missing her too. Today their feelings sum up my own, I wish so very much I could have held her alive, and looked into her sweet little eyes and that I could bring both of my babies home.

Eliana, we all love you so, so much, there are no words to describe. You are forever in our hearts, forever in our family.

A Beautiful Gift

2010-04-30T20:02:00.003-05:00

I feel so grateful to be able to post these truly amazing drawings by a wonderful woman in France named Maryline. I was able to get in touch with her through Holly after seeing the beautiful tribute Maryline did for Carleigh. I can't tell you how much it touches my heart for a woman across the world to be thinking of our precious Eliana, and to give our family such a gift. We really didn't get very many pictures, and even fewer that we can share, so these are priceless to me.

Heartbreaking

2010-04-29T20:00:00.005-05:00

Please bring my friend Becky to God in prayer, along with her husband, son, and daughter. I learned today that their 7 month old son Seth went to be with Jesus during the night last night. He was unable to see, and had been having issues with seizures, and most recently feeding, but this was certainly unexpected. I just feel so heartbroken for Seth's Mommy and Daddy and big brother and sister. Even with the loss we've had, I really can't imagine what they are going through, but I can definitely relate. Please ask the Lord to bring them peace like a river, as only He can, and to wrap them in a blanket of His comfort and love. We thought Seth and Eliana would have played together on earth, now they are exploring heaven together.

Today's passage on biblegateway.com was Job 19:25-27
I know that my Redeemer lives,
and that in the end he will stand upon the earth.
And after my skin has been destroyed,
yet in my flesh I will see God;
I myself will see him
with my own eyes—I, and not another.
How my heart yearns within me!

Seth is seeing Him now, with his own eyes, and after being blind on earth, he has already seen more beauty than those of us here can imagine. He had mostly lost the ability to smile, but in heaven he is filled with joy indescribable!

And that is our hope as well. Even in the midst of unspeakable suffering, Job was comforted only by that one sustaining thought: my Redeemer lives, and one day I will see Him with my own eyes.

The Joy of a Little Boy

2010-04-26T13:41:00.008-05:00

Today my heart is filled with joy about our sweet little boy on the way. The time is drawing nearer to the day we will hold him in our arms. It gets more real with each passing day, and we fall more and more in love with him. He is so active now, and seems to be on a sleeping and waking schedule. I'll have to change that as soon as he's born though, because he seems to be awake all through the night, and asleep a lot throughout the day!!

This morning we had an ultrasound with the perinatologist. They decided to send us there for a more high-tech ultrasound to see his bowel more clearly, and determine if we really need to monitor it any further since it has seemed to improve. It was a little unsettling just to go to that office, somewhere I really never wanted to be, but it brought a real peace and thankfulness to my heart knowing that we are so fortunate that he is doing as well as he is. There was a palpable tension in the waiting area, and my heart went out to other parents, wondering what news they might be receiving that day.

Our appointment went very well. The tech was friendly, and happy to turn on the 3-D and print off tons of cute pictures of his little face. It was so fun to see him yawning, moving his tongue around, putting his hands up to his mouth. It helps me to be able to picture him more outside the womb and in my arms, doing these same cute things in a couple months. It still seems so far away, elusive almost, but yet it becomes more real when we see him like this.

His mouth definitely resembles Eliana, and also our other two boys. I think they all have their Daddy's mouth.

I asked about his size, and she said he is measuring two weeks ahead, at 33 weeks when I am at 31! He weighs over 4 lbs. Although it might ultimately mean a harder delivery, this was great news for us. Each of our boys have measured big, born at 9 lb. 6 oz., and 8 lb. 11 oz. Most of the babies born to other members of our family have also been big, so I would have been a little more concerned about his digestion and possible CF if he wasn't a bit oversized.:)

The Dr. came in and gave us a pretty good report. He said the baby looks like he's doing really well, and upon very careful inspection of the bowel, he could say there might be a "soft marker," but it is slight enough that he really doesn't see a need to be concerned about it any further at this point. Of course he'll be tested after he's born, but at this point we can just breath easy until then. And that's what we intend to do, accompanied by lots of prayer:).

Since our house hasn't sold, we are taking it off the market for now so we can get things ready for the baby. It's time to start making plans about how to fit all of his things into our little house, and really prepare for his arrival! Not to mention, he still needs a name! We're working on it, but we have several choices that we like, so it's a matter of narrowing it down to one that we both feel really good about.

I've been able to buy him some special things lately, both at the store and at garage sales. Even though we have two other boys, this is our first summer baby, so he needs some things of his own.

Each of these steps of preparation is helping not only to prepare our home, but to prepare our hearts for his arrival. I've been attached to him all along, but in the last month or so, I feel I've been able to let go of some of the fear so that I can love him more openly and freely. Even though there are still no guarantees, it's just not worth it to hold anything back when it comes to loving him. Whether one of our children's days here with us are many or few I want to love them as deeply and wholeheartedly as possible every one of those days. I'm so glad that I was able to love Eliana fully, without holding anything back. Even though it makes the loss so much more difficult, it is so worth it to have had the joy of loving her.

Maybe it has taken me a bit longer this time, but I'm so thankful God has been bringing healing into our lives this year, allowing me to open my heart to love this little one with the same intensity as each of our babies. We're so excited for him to get here so we can show him just how loved he is. God is so good, and continues to give us so much hope and peace that this baby will bring such blessing into our lives, whether he has CF or not. He already has, and so have each of our children.

Here are some pics of baby things I've gotten for him.
This is one of my favorites. I love how cute the one-piece gowns are, and how easy they are for changing diapers, so we had to have these!

We let each of the boys pick something out for him too. Caedmon chose puppy slippers, and Jayden the puppy blanket.

With a big sister in heaven, and two big brothers to keep up with, of course he needs the little brother onesie.

Some cute plaid short for summer, just like his big brothers

When I said, "My foot is slipping," your love, O LORD, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.
Psalm 94:18-20

A Wonderful Weekend

2010-04-15T15:11:00.011-05:00

As busy as we've been, I'm just now getting to post about Easter weekend. We had a great time with my family in Marshalltown. We left Friday night, so we brought Caedmon and Jayden in their PJs so we could just carry them into bed when we got there. They were so excited to be going, and to load their own suitcases into the van.

They had such a great time while we were there, playing with cousins, and enjoying two egg hunts and a puppet show. We gave them scooters, and my mom gave them some other outdoor things, so they spent a lot of the weekend outside. It was gorgeous weather! Even our littlest easter bunny, growing away in Mommy's tummy, got to come outside.:)

Of course, we were thinking a lot about Eliana that weekend, and wishing she could be with us to celebrate. She would be 8 months, just big enough to be sitting there with her cousins. I would have so loved to see her wearing her pretty Easter dress, grinning with a big bow in her hair! When we found out she was a girl, it seemed a little unreal after seeing so much blue twice in a row, so we immediately went out and got her four out-fits. One was going to be her first Easter dress.

We got one little stuffed bunny for each of our little bunnies, Caedmon, Jayden, Eliana, and our little guy whose name is yet to be determined.

Another very special thing we did that weekend, was to order Eliana's gravestone! We have been praying all year that God would provide enough to pay for it, and while we had saved some, we weren't very close until we found out we would be getting more back from our tax return this year than expected. God did provide more than enough, with some left over for our roof repair. When I went to order it, the price they quoted us was also much higher than it had been before, so we almost ordered something different than what we had picked out. Fortunately, they were able to do some more checking, and found it cheaper through another company. So, she will have a butterfly marker, placed just in time for her first birthday in heaven on Mother's Day this year!! I feel so blessed to finally have her name where it can be preserved through time.

We also brought Eliana flowers for her grave-site. I took a photo with her bunnies, one we had bought her on sale after Easter last year, and the other from this year. After the visit, I just held those little bunnies, wishing so much she could be in my arms.

The boys had fun again playing on the lambs in the gardens, bringing to mind again the thought of Jesus holding each of our little lambs in his arms, two on earth, two in heaven with him, and one in the womb. (I wrote more on that in this post)

On Easter weekend, while missing our daughter, having so much fun with our two sons, and anticipating the birth of another boy, we were just so thankful for the God we serve. We are just so blessed that we serve a risen Savior. We have so much more to praise Him for than new scooters, nice weather, and even the money for a very special piece of granite. Jesus Christ died on the cross and rose again, He is alive in heaven caring for our daughter and preparing a place for each of us. He has claimed victory over the grave, so for those who believe in Him, we won't just miss and remember our loved ones who have left us, we will actually live with them again in a place that defies imagination. Then our time of sorrow will seem like only the blink of an eye, and all the sadness will melt away into perfect peace and joy.

I love this song by Chris Tomlin, it describes that hope so well. My husband heard it for the first time on his drive from work to meet me at the Drs. office after receiving the news that Eliana didn't have a heartbeat.

"I Will Rise"

There's a peace I've come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There's an anchor for my soul
I can say "It is well"

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead

[Chorus:]
And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise

There's a day that's drawing near
When this darkness breaks to light
And the shadows disappear
And my faith shall be my eyes

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead

[Chorus:]
And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise

And I hear the voice of many angels sing,
"Worthy is the Lamb"
And I hear the cry of every longing heart,
"Worthy is the Lamb"
[x2]

[Chorus:]
And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise

Unchartered Territory

2010-03-28T10:58:00.003-05:00

This week I have passed a big pregnancy milestone. I am 26 weeks going on 27, so Baby June has now eclipsed his big sister by a little over a week. Realizing that, I am just so thankful for each moment, but at the same time it is bittersweet, because each little kick and roll reminds me of the moments I will never have with Eliana. There is once again that paradox of being excited about the growing baby inside of me, while still longing for the one I am missing. Will my feelings associated with my son always be a dichotomy?

And why does the path ahead feel so much like unchartered territory? I've already delivered two healthy babies. I've heard that beautiful sound of the first newborn cry, and experienced the tears of happiness when my new squirmy baby is placed on my chest and our eyes meet in an instant bond of love. So why is it that it feels so foreign again? I close my eyes and try to picture that moment with this little boy, and it is still so difficult to do. I don't think it's an issue of doubt and fear. Lately, I feel very little fear about experiencing another death in the womb. God has given us so much peace about that, and although there is some uncertainty about his health after birth, I've come to feel a strong assurance in the goodness of God's overall plan for our son.

For me, I think it is just the undeniable fact that Eliana has changed me forever. The moments of her short life and her silent entry into this world have left their mark on my soul, and I will never view pregnancy and childbirth in the same way again. As much as I treasure in my heart the experience we had with her, it was traumatic nonetheless. The complete antithesis of what it "should" be, and in that part of my mind and heart that goes beyond all reason and understanding there is a wound so deep that it won't allow me to fully picture and embrace the thought of a healthy birth experience. There is just something beyond words that holds me back.

I do believe in my heart that we will have that healthy birth, I believe I will hear that amazing cry, and feel that warm wiggly goodness in my arms that means life. I love this little boy with all my heart, and long for the day I will get to tell him face to face. I know it will be incredible, and all it was before and more. But for now, it all feels like unchartered territory.

I'll leave you with pictures of a happy outcome

Newborn Caedmon in the hospital:

Newborn Jayden in the hospital:

Philippians 4:6-7 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Baby June Update

2010-03-17T21:14:00.006-05:00

Recently I came home from work when my mom was baby-sitting the boys, and she told me the doctor had phoned and said he was just "checking in." I knew that meant he had something significant to tell me, and since we were expecting our results from my husband's CF carrier screening, that had to be it.

I dialed his office with my heart beating fast, and as he picked up the phone and I told him who I was, I held my breath.

"I was just calling to tell you that those test results for your husband came back today, and he did test positive as a carrier for the cystic fibrosis gene..." He went on to tell me again about the statistics, one in four that our baby will have the disease, and more background information. He said we could talk more at my next appointment coming up, and in the meantime we could research on-line over the weekend and let him know if we want to set up an appointment with a genetic counselor.

Wow...it was just so strange to hear those words. Over the past 10 weeks we have gone from a tiny tiny percentage chance to a 25% chance that our baby has CF. Especially considering the ultrasound finding with his intestine looking prominent, we felt very concerned for our son. That finding is what initially prompted them to check if we were carriers, but they assured us of the rarity that we would both come back positive. Yet now, here we are again in a small minority, again facing the possibility of joining a club we never signed up for...

The next few days went by in a relative blur of praying, doing research, and just feeling overwhelmed with the magnitude of this news. Less than a year ago we buried our only daughter, now we are suddenly faced with the possibility of our son having a life-threatening illness. Difficult to process, impossible to understand, and yet somehow we had to find perspective.

I couldn't sleep in the days leading up to our appointment. It wasn't just that I was anxious, I was in desperate need of reaching out to God, and for Him to answer. I would wake up in the night suddenly praying in my spirit for my little boy before my mind could catch up. I would try to nap on the couch only to be awakened soon after with more fervent prayer.

I wasn't sure how to pray. We don't know if he has inherited both of our CF genes or not, he might already be perfectly healthy...or not. Do I pray for him to be healed? We know God is fully capable of bringing him to us healthy, but we also know our will doesn't always line up with His. I'm so grateful for those verses found in Romans 8:26-27: "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will."

I just decided to lay my heart on the line, and trust that the Holy Spirit will step in where my prayers fail. I have told God that our hearts' cry is for our son to be born healthy, so that's what we're praying for. Yet I know that what I ultimately want is God's will for my life, so I will accept whatever that is, and welcome it knowing that it will give us an opportunity to bring greater glory to Him. Last May we were called to surrender our daughter into His hands, and what could ever be harder than that? And yet one thing I am learning is that it's not only Eliana I'm called to surrender, all of my children and all of my loved ones are equally His. He wants me to place each of them in His loving arms, and trust Him to care for them, and to work out His plan for their lives.

The idea of my son suffering breaks my heart. There is nothing I want more than to see him born healthy and strong. Yet, I think of Jesus in the garden praying "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will." Think of the depth of love the Father had for His only begotten Son Jesus, beyond human understanding. Yet He knew there was no other way for mankind to be saved but through the suffering of His Son. Despite Jesus' prayer to be spared from betrayal, suffering, and death, He still longed for His Father's will above all else, and look at the outcome of the Father's will. Jesus suffered a matchless agony on the cross, but to bring about the most beautiful miracle ever to take place--the salvation of our souls! The penalty of sin paid in full for all who receive Him, and with His blood we gained the right to be called sons and daughter of God! If Jesus had never suffered, we could never be saved.

Of course any human suffering will never equal that of Jesus, and any positive outcome will never equal the magnitude of the salvation of mankind, but what a glorious example of what it means to yield to the Father's will. And what a picture of how far-reaching, good, and infinitely loving our Father's will is!

And so as the days passed my heart was filled with unspeakable peace about our little boy. Not peace that we are guaranteed he will be free from suffering, but peace about who our God is. He loves our son so deeply, He knows His days and ours before we are even born, He has all of our lives mapped out in detail, and plans to carry us through any trial we might face. I trust that any trial He allows in our lives has passed first through His loving hands, and He WILL take care of our baby, He WILL carry us, and He WILL use all things for good. So I can confidently pray "Lord if it is possible, let this cup of suffering pass from my child and our family, and bring him into this world perfectly healthy with no illness, but not my will, but yours be done."

I don't pray that lightly and easily, but with tears and a heart that aches to the depths knowing far too well the pain of surrender. But I will step forward with faith, and trust that He will be who He has always been, and He will do all He has promised to do.

We walked into our next OB appointment smiling and laughing and feeling lighter than we had in some time. I was called back for an ultrasound before seeing the Dr., and felt prepared for anything that we might see. What we saw was...incredible.

After two ultrasounds in the last two months showing an abnormal small intestine, the tech typed in "normal bowel" and wrote it at the top of my chart for the first thing the Doctor would see. Everything else looked fabulous, and there was our sweet little monkey moving around and looking as adorable as ever. Of course we were breathing a huge sigh of relief, and praising God. This was our 5th ultrasound for this pregnancy, and the first with only good news!

We discussed things further with the doctor, and when he looked closely at the u/s pictures, he did say it still looked slightly prominent to him, but it does look good enough now that it wouldn't have even been documented had it looked like this to begin with. We're so grateful to rule out the concern of a surgery after birth, and the fact that whatever was showing up seems to have all but disappeared would seem to indicate it was unrelated to CF. The 25% chance he might be born with it remains, but without the bowel issue, I am looking at it as a 75% chance he will be born healthy! It's all in God's hands. Please continue to join us in prayer for a healthy little boy born in June, and that God would continue to strengthen our faith as we await his arrival.

10 Months

2010-03-09T22:55:00.003-06:00

Today it has been 10 months since those precious, fleeting moments of holding our daughter in our arms. 10 months since we counted her fingers and toes, and sang songs and prayed over her, since we saw her tiny face and delicate little features. Those moments are forever etched upon my heart, though as time passes they become more hazy in my mind. I want to keep the memories fresh and clear through all of time, but instead they become increasingly faded like an antique photograph.

I want so much to be near to her.

If only I could catch a glimpse of her, running and laughing, so vibrant and so ALIVE! She is so much more than a fading photograph in my mind, more than the silent moments spent in our arms. She is more alive now than any of the days she was here with us.

Until the day we're together again, I will have to cling to my faded memories, and our precious photographs that will never be enough, and the complete assurance that as I'm missing her, she is happier than I can possibly understand, fully complete, without a single unfulfilled longing or regret.

She plays in a world that knows no bounds, exploring the splendor, beauty, and endless wonder of heaven like the care-free little butterfly she is. Someday we will fly together, and it will feel like the years of separation were only a day compared to eternity together in God's presence.

We love you so much, Eliana.

Fly High for Jesus, Little Butterfly!

The Two Week Wait

2010-02-24T21:49:00.002-06:00

Two weeks ago at my last routine prenatal visit, I had a blood test to find out if I am a carrier for the cystic fibrosis gene. They told us to wait two weeks, and they would call if the result was positive, but after two weeks I might want to call in myself just to find out either way. So, as the days came and went leading up to the two week mark with no phone call, I became more optimistic, especially the day before and day of the two weeks. Since no call came, I basically assumed they were going to tell me I tested negative, and all this waiting would come to an end.

So yesterday I called in and left a message for them to call with my lab results. At the end of the day, after their office was already closed, the phone call finally came. A perky sounding nurse apologized for not catching me earlier. Apparently they had tried to call my cell phone first, and I hadn't heard it. She said I did in fact test positive as a carrier for cystic fibrosis.

After all my optimism, this was pretty disappointing news. There still isn't a reason to assume our baby has the disease, but it just brings the possibility that much closer to home. This morning Mark went in for a blood test, so now we are back to the two week wait again. I thought two weeks was long when trying to conceive, but this seems so much longer!!

If he tests negative, we are most likely in the clear, but there is still a very small chance because they only test for the most common form of the gene, and there are some more rare forms that he could carry that wouldn't show up on the test. If he tests positive, there is still a reasonable chance our baby might not have the disease, but of course the likelihood jumps considerably. In that case we would start preparing ourselves for dealing with it if he is born with it, and the waiting game would continue until he could be tested after birth. I'm not sure if there is any more they can tell via ultrasound than what they have already seen with the echogenic bowel, which is inconclusive.

So in the meantime, we are just waiting again, while still praying and hoping for the best. Thank you for your prayers, I'll keep updating when we find out more!

The Weight of Glory

2010-02-21T23:31:00.005-06:00

Today I had to miss church and small group Bible study because of sickness, so it seems like just as good of a day as any to blog about my Bible reading. I’ve been thinking about some verses lately found in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18. Paul writes, “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Let’s first take a look at one section of verse 17, “our light and momentary troubles…” At first glance this description of our earthly struggles could appear offensive, even flippant. This would definitely not be a verse to write in a sympathy card or to quote to someone in the darkest time of their grief. Let’s face it, some passages are just better when you arrive at them on your own, and have only to think about what GOD meant by including it in His word, not human interpretation. I would say this is one of them, and I’ve been puzzling over it recently.

Light and momentary…Seriously? Well, let’s see, this is Paul writing about his physical struggles of mistreatment and imprisonment, so it must not be meant to apply to the loss of a child, right? It must not be meant to apply to me…

But the more I think and pray about these verses, the more I see that they are definitely intended to apply to me. So, how can God’s word actually call my pain and struggles light and momentary? Don’t you see what I’ve been through, Lord, don’t you know how empty it feels, how much it hurts? You are the only one who fully knows what I feel inside, and do you call it light and momentary?

To answer these questions, I need only look at the context of the rest of scripture. This year I’ve been in a Bible study group doing an in depth study of the book of John. One of our recent studies was chapter 11.

Here, Jesus’ friend Lazarus has died. Lazarus and his sisters Mary and Martha are among His most intimate earthly relationships, along with his disciples and his mother Mary, so he joins their side. Verses 33-35 say “When Jesus saw her (Mary) weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and was troubled, and said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to Him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus wept….” And verse 38 “So Jesus, again being very moved within, came to the tomb.” After this Jesus proceeds to heal Lazarus and calls him forth from the tomb, alive, and Mary and Martha and all those around are filled with unspeakable joy.

When considering Jesus’ emotional response, I believe it goes far beyond a human reaction to seeing that his friend has died. For one, Jesus knew that He had power over death, and that he would soon raise Lazarus to life again. It did sadden him that Lazarus had died, but this description of how deeply He felt goes beyond that. He also felt sympathy towards Mary and Martha, and profoundly compassionate in response to their sorrow. Yet, there is still more to His reaction, since He does know that their mourning will turn very quickly into rejoicing.

Here, I think Jesus is grieved for a variety of reasons. Deeply moved in spirit, in the literal Greek, means not only that He was sad, but also angered. Romans 6:23 says “The wages of sin is death…,” and here He is angry at Satan, our adversary and the father of sin and death, and deeply moved by the depth of suffering death brings to the lives of those He loves. He is feeling the weight of the pain, sorrow, and suffering of mankind as a result of death not only in this case, but all through the ages. He can see through the corridors of time, and knows that in the case of Lazarus he will rescue immediately, but in most cases, this pain will be felt until heaven.

In a sense, Jesus wept that day, for me, as if He could see the six-year-old feeling forsaken after the loss of her Daddy, the 14-year-old girl whose friend was killed in a car crash, at 16 when another friend was murdered, and now the Mommy weeping over the loss of her only daughter.

He wept not only for me, but for you, and for countless other members of the human race who Jesus loved and identified with deeply. He does not consider our suffering light and momentary from a human standpoint. In fact, He fully recognizes and has personally felt its magnitude. Not only that, but not so long after raising Lazarus, Jesus would personally bear the full penalty of death on His own shoulders on the cross, to make a way for those who believe in Him to escape spiritual death and be united together with Him and with each other for eternity.

Isaiah 53: 3-4 says of Christ:
“ He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows…

Hebrew 4:14-16 reads:
“Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

So, if Jesus fully understands the depth of suffering we experience on this earth, why does His word speak of it in terms that would almost appear to dismiss it. How does Paul, whose suffering was immense, call all his trials light and momentary?

Because they are light and momentary by comparison.

Comparison to what? I know many of us have felt such sorrow over the loss of our children, we wonder how anything could ever make it look light by comparison. The answer is nothing can, on this earth.

But let’s look at the rest of this passage “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Our current trials are being compared with the promise of our eternal glory. Heaven. Also in Romans 8:18 Paul writes “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” That is how immeasurably great the promise of heaven is.

Think of the deepest sadness you have ever felt, the most difficult day on your grief journey. Maybe the day you found out you would lose your baby, or the day you held your child for the last time. Or maybe it was days or even weeks later, when reality really began to sink in. Imagine the heaviness on your soul, an incomparable weight.

Now consider for just a moment, that on the flip side, the glory, joy, and freedom of heaven carries a weight that is far greater than that. In fact, that the heaviness of our sadness does not even compare in magnitude to the weight of glory! It’s more than I can understand or imagine. The only way to explain it is, “what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Although it remains unseen temporarily, if I close my eyes long enough, I can almost see the open arms of Jesus as I run into them on that day. I can almost hear Eliana laughing as she runs to me and I hold her for the first time alive. And when I picture that, I can understand these verses. Nothing could possibly compare to the magnitude of that day, not even our most profound feelings of suffering can begin to scratch the surface. All of that will melt away in an instant, in the blink of an eye, and it will suddenly be so light and momentary in light of eternity.

Revelation 21:4 says that God Himself will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain. For the very last time, there will be tears, and as they are wiped away by our Father, a permanent healing takes place. Our souls are made whole for the first time, and perhaps in that moment, those who have felt the greatest degree of pain and loss will experience the deepest degree of boundless joy. Only then, in the midst of utter perfection and completion, will our suffering be converted into light and momentary trouble. How I long for that day.

Update on Baby June

2010-02-12T21:26:00.005-06:00

So, life has just calmed down to a reasonable enough pace for me to post a quick update on Tuesday's appointment. First of all, thank you to all who prayed for me. I was actually the calmest I have been for any of my OB visits in this pregnancy. I felt very relaxed and at peace the entire time, even as the tech did measurement after measurement of the baby's brain and heart. It crossed my mind that I didn't remember them doing it in that much detail before. But I think I was so naive in my previous three pregnancies, although I was happy everything looked good, I spent a lot of those ultrasounds just day-dreaming about how cute my baby was, without a lot of concern for potential complications. This time I paid close attention to everything they were checking and although I was calm, I was still on the alert for any hint of a problem. She saw that the baby's bowel is still appearing prominent, but I was blessed to have the same tech as last time, and she told me that it didn't appear as noticeable as it was last time. Still, it appeared different from the norm, so it's something we will keep watching as long as it continues to show up.

The Dr. I saw was very reassuring, and he explained more details about cystic fibrosis, and confirmed that the chance of our baby having it is small. He also went ahead and ordered the test for me to have the blood test to see if I'm a carrier. I'll have those results back in two weeks. If it were to come back positive, then my husband would also be tested. (we would both have to test positive for it to show up in one of our children.) I feel relieved that we will get some information in the next couple of weeks. The Dr. also mentioned that besides CF, the finding could also indicate a problem with the baby's anus that could require a surgery following birth. Of course we don't want our newborn to have to go through a surgery, but my perspective has been changed enough through losing our daughter, that I feel like all of these possibilities are manageable compared with the thought of losing our son. If we get the privilege of parenting him, I know we will be able to deal with any complications that could come up. The Dr. also said that his first guess would be that the baby could be born without any issues at all, so of course that's our hope.

Going into this pregnancy, I really hoped for it to be textbook and uneventful. So far that hasn't been the case at all, but I know God has a plan in all of this, and our faith is definitely being strengthened in the process! We appreciate your continued prayers for our sweet little boy!

Tomorrow

2010-02-08T21:23:00.004-06:00

I just wanted to post a quick update that tomorrow is our 20 week anatomy scan. We've been praying daily for good news at this appointment, and I am anxious to see what we will find out. At our last appointment, they saw on the ultrasound a prominent small intestine, which we were told could be a possible indicator of cystic fibrosis. The Dr. said that sometimes these things will not even show up the next time they check. Tomorrow we will see if it is indeed still showing up, and if so, we will probably be referred to see if we can find out more through a specialist. In addition, of course, I am hoping to get a good report on all of the other things they will be checking. Right now I am feeling mostly excited to get a look at our sweet little boy again, and lots of peace about whatever we will see. I would still ask for your prayers tomorrow as we go in at 1:30. Usually I start to feel more emotional, and a little panicked as soon as I drive into the clinic parking lot for each appointment, and since this is the big one, I'm sure I will be battling some anxiety.

We've done some research on CF since our last scan, and have felt encouraged by all the continuing medical advancements. The prognosis is really very good for a baby born now with the disease, as opposed to years prior. I feel confident that if we do find out he has it, God will give us all the grace we need to handle it, and our son can still have a long and full life even with the illness.

My last post was about how much I have been missing Eliana lately, even in relation to this pregnancy, but I don't want to overshadow in any way how excited I am about this little boy. Each time we've found out the gender, I have immediately started to feel like I know that little person so much better, and this time I have just been falling more and more in love with him with each passing day. I feel like he is such a special baby, because he was God's specific plan for us, even though we had no idea. We thought we would be having a baby last year, which means according to our timing, this year we would not. God knew differently from the beginning, and had this plan laid out all along for our special little boy to come into the world. I know he will bring so much joy into our lives, and I just can't wait to see his face, and get to know his unique little personality. While we will always miss our little girl, I believe God will also use this baby in a special way to bring further healing to our hearts like only He can. It's amazing to me how the human heart can carry so much heart ache, but so much loving anticipation and joy all at the same time. Never have I had such conflicting emotions at one time, but here I am.

I really wasn't surprised at all to find out we were having a boy. I had a feeling most of the time. Partly, because I had three different dreams about boys. In one I had in October, shortly after we found out we were expecting, I was pregnant with twins. Around the 25/26 week mark, I went into preterm labor. Everyone was extremely concerned except for me. Somehow, I just knew both babies would be okay. I knew that one was a girl and one a boy, and the girl was fully mature and could be born, but the boy needed more time. I told the doctors not to worry, "She will be just fine, and he won't be born now, he'll stay in there longer until the time is right." Sure enough, contrary to science, our baby girl was born at 25 weeks fully mature like a two month-old baby, and our little boy, who was at the normal developmental stage for that gestation would stay in the womb for many more weeks. Our daughter had lots of dark curly hair like Eliana did, and the prettiest dark eyes. I got to hold her, and talk to her as she gazed back at me lovingly and smiled. Pure bliss, and I didn't want to wake up.

The more I thought of it afterward, I wondered if the baby girl in my dream was really Eliana, two months old just as she would have been in October if she had lived to her due-date, and the baby boy twin was actually our next baby, for the pregnancy we were just beginning. Now that it was confirmed he is a boy, I take comfort in that explanation, and that my peace and assurance in the dream is the true assurance that he really will be born healthy at the proper time.

Later in the pregnancy I had another dream about the most adorable little newborn baby boy with dark hair and eyes like the baby girl from the other dream. He was so perfect and I loved him so much. I'm curious to find out if our son will resemble this baby or not when he's born.

My third boy dream, a couple days before last month's ultrasound was really funny. In real life, my mom was so convinced throughout this pregnancy that I was expecting a girl that she kept calling the baby "she" every time she referred to it. I reminded her often that it might very well be a boy, but she was convinced. It really didn't bother me all that much, besides being slightly annoying. In my dream, however, they confirmed that we were having a boy, and I went into an all out tirade to my mom for calling my son a girl for three months.

So, all that to say, my instincts were spot on with this one, and we are so blessed and so excited to be carrying this sweet little boy blue.

This is me, tonight

2010-01-30T00:29:00.004-06:00

I think the reason I have been avoiding my blog lately, is because I really don’t like a lot of the thoughts and feelings I’ve been having. I’ve also been feeling so scattered that to sit down and try to make sense of it all at the keyboard is no easy task. My feelings and my faith have both been on a roller coaster lately, so much so that my mind cannot even keep up with what is going on inside my soul…Some days I feel a strength and a peace from God that keeps me going, and even brings a joy to my heart. Other days I just feel so conflicted, confused, lost really. Even after 8 months I still don’t know how to navigate in this unfamiliar territory of loss, and especially pregnancy after our loss. I’ve felt so many different things since our last appointment for Baby June, some triggered by the problem seen on the ultrasound, some by a decrease in his movement that turned out to be nothing, and some by finding out we’re having a boy.

I had a feeling there would be some issues attached whether we were having a boy or a girl. In fact, if we were having Eliana’s sister instead of her brother, I would probably be wrestling with a similar set of thoughts. But, in all honesty, I have been missing her so much more intensely since learning Baby June is a boy. I feel guilty to even type this, but at the same time, it is the truth, and I will feel worse if I don’t face my struggles head on.

It’s not that I am actually disappointed to be having another boy. We’ve been so happy each time we’ve learned we’re having a son, and love them so much, all three. When I was pregnant with Eliana, I was completely prepared to hear we were having another son, and so surprised when they told us she was a little girl. During her pregnancy, we thought we would probably have at least one more, and would have been equally pleased with a boy or a girl. I am completely happy that my 4th child is a little boy. What I am hurting over so much though, is that I didn’t get to keep my third baby, my little girl…

I have always wanted a little girl so much. I was so happy to have our two boys first. We planned to have a larger family and wanted some of each, so I always thought I would get to raise a daughter. I grew up with two sisters, and we had so much fun together, I imagined reliving some of those things with my own daughter someday. Once I found out I had indeed been given that little girl I had dreamed of, I was so in love with her, and couldn’t wait for everything her life would bring to our family.

I wanted to see how she would melt her Daddy’s heart, and how her big brothers would want to protect her always. I wanted to brush her silky hair and put it in little pigtails and dress her in the cutest clothes. I imagined her as a little ballerina, and also hoped I would have a shopping partner, especially on family vacations that are currently often spent going to zoos and reptile museums. But, I knew that even if she hated shopping and the color pink, and was more interested in going fishing with the boys than wearing tutus, it wouldn’t have made a difference to me. More than anything, I just wanted to be her Mommy, and love her for whoever God intended her to be.

Now, she is gone and I will never know how she would have turned out. There is nothing that can ever change that. Of course that would be true even if we were having another girl. It is not just the idea of having a daughter I am missing, it is her sweet little spirit that my spirit aches and longs for. She was given to me, and then taken away, and nothing can ever fill the hole that is left permanently in my heart.

There are so many unfulfilled dreams I had for her, and still just so much love in my heart that is meant only for her. Sometimes it’s so much I feel like I will fall apart because I can’t contain all the love that I am not able to pour out in the active role of mothering her. My soul still longs so much to hold her and take care of her. God creates a mother with a boundless overflowing sea of love for her baby for a reason, because that is what the night and day, exhausting, beautiful task of caring for a baby requires. But, I will never get to do that for her. I think it is even more exhausting to long for her than it would be to take care of her. Caring for a baby is a physical drain, but grieving for a baby is an emotional and spiritual drain that leaves you ragged and scattered.

I look for ways to remember her, and honor her life, and while it feels good to do something for another person in her name, at the end of the day there is still just a restless kind of emptiness that nothing can lessen. No amount of good things I can do in her memory can ever make up for the fact that no one will ever call her by name, see her smile, or hold her close in this life. Even if I succeed in keeping her memory alive, it is only the memory that she existed, because no one has a memory of who she is. We didn’t even get to catch a glimpse of that.

Even as I type these words, I know in my heart the spiritual truth that has comforted me in the past, that she IS known, fully and intimately by her heavenly Father, who calls her by name, and loves her perfectly for who she is. He is the only one who she needs to be known by. It is me who needs for her to be known and recognized on this earth, she has no need for that, and isn’t really missing out on anything.

Still, even as that knowledge comforts my heart about her current state, it doesn’t change the way it feels down here. I am lonely and broken, lost and disoriented without her. I try to move forward, only to find myself so many steps behind. I try to bring God glory only to find myself stumbling in the dark. I know He is there, helping me take every breath, every step, and loving me all along the way even as I falter. But sometimes it is so hard to feel it down here.

My sister who is due a month before me, and already has the only granddaughter on my side of the family, just found out yesterday, she is expecting another girl. I’m happy for her, but at the same time, it also hurt to see how brightly her face lit up when she came back from her appointment and told us. Then I sat and listened to her call our list of loved ones saying each time “It’s a girl!!” and sensing their excitement on the other end. That same excitement they are supposed to have over my little girl, instead of just sympathy and sadness. It made me relive the feeling of overwhelming joy from that day we had Eliana’s ultrasound and found out she was a girl. I know I had that same look on my face, and made those same phone calls. Now those happy memories can sometimes feel like daggers when I think of how quickly all our joy turned into this sadness.

That’s one thing I hate the most about all of this pain. The way things that once brought me the greatest joy in my life, have become sources of sorrow that I sometimes have to avoid. Everything to do with babies has always made me so happy. I have always loved seeing new babies, whether children of strangers, or of friends and family, and while I still enjoy them now, there is always a sadness that accompanies it. Pregnancy used to be such a joy, and now it is accompanied by so many fears and so many reminders of the pain. It hurts to look at my son’s baby pictures and remember their births and newborn days, because it reminds me too much of what I didn’t get to have with Eliana. Those were some of the very best moments of my life, and I can only pray that my heart will heal to a point where I can look at them that way again. And of course, those few precious memories of Eliana, that I will treasure in my heart for a lifetime. I wish so much that every memory of her could bring nothing but joy, but they still bring such sadness, hurt, and disappointment over what could have been.

I know all of the other mother’s out there who have lost children understand where I am coming from. I wish this wasn’t the place I am in right now, but it is. I wish I had a more encouraging, uplifting post, but I just don’t have that tonight. Ask me tomorrow, and I am likely to be on a much better plane. It’s funny how grief can do that to you, one day can be one of the most difficult, and the next day can be a happy one. And of course, being pregnant I am shifting that much more easily between emotional states. This post doesn’t reflect my overall outlook, or my constant train of thought by any means. It reflects some of the worst of me, and my thoughts at this specific, tired moment.

I am still holding on for dear life to my faith, and God really is carrying me along with His mighty strength. I am loving this baby He has given me with all I have, and just doing my best to move forward for him, and his two big brothers. Most days I really am okay, but I have been feeling all of this underneath the surface lately, and a couple of recent meltdowns have prompted me to just sit down and try to figure out what is really going on inside of me.

I’m so thankful that when I am at my weakest, I have an opportunity to rely on the strength that only comes from God. When I feel my steps begin to falter, I can count on Him never to let me fall. When I can’t walk on my own, I know He will carry me.

Praise the Lord; praise God our savior! For each day he carries us in his arms.
Our God is a God who saves! The Sovereign Lord rescues us from death.
Psalm 68:19-20

When I said, "My foot is slipping," your love, O LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.
Psalm 94:18-19

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10

PS: To my pregnant sis if you ever read this, you know how much I love you, love my niece and nephew, and now love this new little niece on the way. She will bring so much happiness to all of us, and I look forward to seeing J. with her little sister. My feelings described here are just that, my feelings, that only have to do with how much I miss my own little girl. Don’t feel bad about your happy news, or being excited around me. I know you can understand how I can be both happy for you, sad for me not having my daughter, and yet happy about my baby boy, all at the same time!!

Please Pray for Baby June

2010-01-13T15:07:00.004-06:00

Yesterday we had an ultrasound for Baby June. The main reason it was scheduled was because of a cyst they had seen on my ovary during a previous scan. It was large enough that if there was no change, a surgery might be recommended to remove it during the second trimester. Since that time, we have been praying that it would go away, and waiting until yesterday's appointment to find out the outcome.

The first thing the technician said after looking around a little bit was "So it was on the left side, right?" This was great to hear, because I immediately knew it must have gotten smaller or completely disappeared. Once she located it, it had gone down to less than 2 cm, from a measurement of 6 cm before. This was great news, and a direct answer to prayer. At this point it will likely continue to disappear altogether during the upcoming months, and even if it remains, it's small enough not to pose a risk.

We had also let her know that we would like to find out the gender if possible, so she started to look for that. It really didn't look very promising at first. The baby was tucked into my hip, and the legs were crossed, completely hiding the view. I thought we were going to walk away in suspense when she turned of the monitors, but seeing that we were disappointed she had me try a different position and checked one more time. Still, Baby June was being elusive, and she said "I'm not getting a good view at all, but if I had to guess, I would say this is a little boy. I wouldn't go out and buy a bunch of clothes and paint the nursery, though, because I could definitely be wrong." Hmmmm...I knew that was going to drive me absolutely crazy not knowing for sure, so I was relieved when she finally got a very good angle, and it was quite obvious that we are indeed going to be the parents of three wild and crazy boys!!

After that we saw the Dr. I expected him to pop in to say everything looks good and send us on our merry way. It didn't go quite as planned. He sat down at the end of the table and flipped through the photos from the ultrasound.
"We did see something on the ultrasound that I want to show you..."
At this point my eyes already started welling up with tears. Whatever he was going to say, I just wasn't prepared to hear there were any issues with our baby.

He went on to say that the baby's small intestine appears more prominent than it normally should. He showed us the photo and explained how they could tell. He assured us that sometimes these things show up on one scan, and the next time it appears normal, but...he also was obligated to tell us that it could be an indicator of cystic fibrosis.

At this point I am just trying to hold it together, because I am so unprepared to face the possibility of him having a potentially fatal disease after losing our daughter so recently. I don't think this Dr. had looked closely enough at our chart to know what had happened with our previous pregnancy. He was very calm about the whole thing, and didn't seem very concerned. He told us we will monitor it closely, and if we see it next time we may need to visit the Dr. upstairs, meaning the specialist.

When I got home I immediately started researching on the internet and discovered that the chances of this ultrasound finding actually indicating cystic fibrosis are very slim. There is a very good chance that everything is still just fine with our little boy. Still, it is hard to swallow because percentages haven't exactly been on my side lately, and I know all too well that that is certainly not a guarantee that everything will turn out fine. We are hoping and praying that it will, and from a medical standpoint it probably will. I am asking you to pray along with us that whatever is showing up on the scan will resolve itself, and our little guy will be as healthy as ever, born crying and wiggling into our waiting arms in June. Also that he won't have a life-threatening illness, but will lead a long and healthy life. If you are willing, please comment and let me know you will be praying with us.

Romans 12:12 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.

The Big Day

2010-01-12T10:08:00.004-06:00

Dear Baby June,

Today is the big day we've been waiting for. The day we will get to take another peek at you, and this time, hopefully find out if you are a boy or a girl. I am so excited and nervous! I can't wait to see you wiggling around on the screen. Last time we saw you, you were a tiny little peanut at 8 weeks, and your little heart was blinking away so beautifully. You have grown and changed so much since then, and I can't wait to see you.

I feel you rolling around in there now, and it is so much fun! I'm so thankful to be able to feel your movements so much earlier than I did with your brothers and sister. It makes it seem so much more real. Of course you have been real from the start, but feeling your movements just makes it seem a little closer to the day I will hold you.

I have to admit, I have been a little scared to write about you, to dream about you, and to hope. The thought of losing you is so scary, and somehow the more attached I feel, the more real that possibility of loss seems, and of course the more painful the thought of loss becomes.

There was a time early on when I was just gripped with so much fear, it was almost paralyzing. I found it difficult to trust God with you life, and to place you in His hands. I just wanted to hold onto you with a grip so tight my knuckles would turn white, and even God couldn't loosen the hold I had on you. But the truth is, it just doesn't work that way. No matter how much I might like to think I'm in control, I have learned through many life lessons, that just isn't the case. You are His, you are His, you are His. And it is in that knowledge that I must rest. Knowing that as your creator He loves you so deeply, knows you so intimately, already. He has you in the palm of His hand with a great plan for your life already mapped out before you. Only He knows the hours, the days, or the years. Lord, please let it be years!! A lifetime full of them. Today, I am anxiously waiting to find out your gender, while He already knows your entire future. When I think of it in those terms, there is a freedom in relinquishing the control I never had to begin with, and surrendering it to Him.

I know I am certainly not guaranteed a free pass, but I am trusting in the promises that God is good, that He will work all things for good in my life, and that He loves me with an everlasting love. If that somehow meant another loss, I'm not sure I would know how to interpret that, but I do know I would still cling to those promises. Knowing His deep love for you and for me allows me to place you in His arms, trusting that He will give you right back to me. With your sister, it will not be until heaven, but with you, I hope and fervently pray He will give you to me in the here and now. I want so much to hear you cry, look in your eyes, feed you, hold you, tell you I love you, and watch you grow. I want to mother you and raise you all your life, and never have to see the end of your days.

Soon we will find out if God has chosen a son or a daughter for us. I can't wait to find out more about you, but all I know in this moment is, I love you today, so much little one. I love you for who you are and who you will become, and I can't wait to see your little life unfold.

Forever loving you,
Mommy

Jeremiah 31:3-4
"I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.
I will build you up again and you will be rebuilt...Again you will take up your tambourines and go out to dance with the joyful."

Romans 8:28
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose."

Psalm 139:13-16
"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be."

Waiting with Hope

2010-01-10T10:32:00.004-06:00

So, I am finally back in blogland, after surviving the holidays, bouts of illness with me and each of the boys, and lots of time at my Mom's without an internet connection. I can honestly say, having our first Christmas and New Year's since losing Eliana behind us feels like I've made it over a huge hurdle. Breathing is coming a little easier now, and I am thankful for that.

Each of our Christmas celebrations went very well. I continue to be so amazed and thankful at God's grace shown through the eyes of my two little boys. They are so full of excitement, delight, and ENERGY, that I can't help but feel their joy. Our family celebration at home the night before Christmas Eve was great. They were so excited about their new trains and train table it was hard to get them away from it to look in their stockings or open their other presents! My oldest son gave me a beautiful silver butterfly necklace with little diamonds on it. He said he picked it out himself, and "doesn't it make you think of Eliana, Mommy?" It was so sweet of him to be thinking of her at Christmas like I was. Of course, he didn't count the stones or think of their significance, but there are five-one for each of my babies, two in heaven, two with me every day, and one in the womb. It's perfect.

Christmas Eve we drove to my hometown to go to church and celebrate at my Grandma's house with all the relatives. Again at church, my children were such a distraction I didn't have a chance to get into an emotional frame of mind like I might have. They were good for about the first half, but after a while I was focusing more on keeping them quiet than thinking about how I was feeling. I had brought some little toys for my 2 year old to play with, and pretty soon his 4 year old cousin wanted to play with them, and then my five year old, so they were all fighting! Still, it was a beautiful service, and I was able to worship amidst the chaos while being thankful for God's gift of His son, and His gift of my son's, daughter, and baby June.

We visited with aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins that night and had our gift exchange. It was so fun to watch the little kids get up front to sing Christmas carols before opening presents!

Christmas morning we opened gifts with my Mom and sisters at Mom's house. She gave me a little ornament in memory of Eliana, and again it touched my heart that she was remembered. Overall, things went very well and we had such a good time with our children and niece and nephew.

Somehow, it was New Year's that was bothering me more than Christmas. Maybe because there was so much anticipation of Christmas, and I was more prepared to focus on the boys and the reasons to be joyful. New Year's just sort of crept up on me unnoticed. I felt a heavy weight on my soul with each passing thought of the new year. I think because, as difficult as 2009 was, it was Eliana's year. I found out I was pregnant in December of '08, but it was in '09 that I carried her for most of the pregnancy, and it is the only year I will ever hold her in my arms on this earth. To say good bye to 2009 feels like our separation is becoming greater and greater, and somewhere inside of me I'm afraid that she will be forgotten. I know, of course, that I will never forget, but by moving ahead in time I feel others will forget, and expect me to move on and "get on with my life." I guess a part of me felt like staying in 2009 kept me closer to her, and moving on was leaving her behind.

We celebrated New Year's Eve at my husband's parents', spent the night, and had Christmas with them on New Year's Day. As we sat in the living room waiting for midnight New Year's Eve, my sister-in-law pointed out the little snowman ornaments she had gotten her parents. Each one had the name of one of the grandchildren-6 little grandsons, two born this year who would have been Eliana's playmates. But there was no little snowman for Eliana. Soon the ball dropped and we kissed, and toasted the New Year. I sat on the couch while everyone talked and laughed trying so hard not to cry in front of everyone.

We went to bed and that night ended in tears. Tears that she wasn't there to roll around on the floor with her little cousin James, just her age. Tears that I had to start a new year without her. Tears that her name was missing among all her cousins, and I wished she had been remembered. I was just missing her so much that night, wishing I could go backward instead of moving ahead. Back to that elusive happiness before her life was cut short, that time when life seemed too good to be true, and somehow, it was...

But God is so good, because somehow on that first morning of 2010, I woke up with Hope. I woke up thinking of Baby June, and how this was his/her year,(hopefully the first of many!) and knowing that God was with me. I know He will continue to carry me through this year as He did the one before, and as He has all the years of my life. This Bible passage came into my mind that morning, and has continued to echo in my heart during the following days.
Lamentations 3:21-26
Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."

The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;

it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.

And so I quietly wait. I wait for Him to continue the healing of my heart, I wait for the safe arrival of my Baby June, Hope personified, and I ultimately wait for the day of salvation, when I will be in heaven with Jesus, and will be reunited with my daughter. Until then, I move forward with Hope, and I wait.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-24T11:45:00.002-06:00

The angel said to the shepherds
"Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord..." and suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased."
Luke 2:11-14

Tonight

2009-12-23T20:03:00.007-06:00

I knew this was coming soon, and now the day is here. Tonight in just a little while we will be opening Christmas presents as a family. We were going to wait until tomorrow morning, but the weather is getting bad, so we need to leave to travel to my mom's as soon as we get a window of clear weather tomorrow. Last year we started the tradition of opening our own presents with just our family at home before going to our parents' houses. This way, we get to enjoy our Christmas together, and the boys get a chance to play with their gifts from us a little bit before leaving town.

I am excited to see the boys' faces light up when they walk into the living room and see their new train table and Thomas things and their little keyboards, and then open up the presents we have wrapped for them. But, I know in my heart I will be missing my little Eliana so much, I hope it won't show on my face when I smile back at those two precious boys. I wish I could see her face light up just like her brothers', as she experiences all of it for the very first time, all wide-eyed with wonder. How different and how wonderful it would all be if she was here with us. There will be joy in our house this year, because of the gift of God's son Jesus coming into the world, and the gift of our own two sons, but there will be a deep sadness as well, because each year there will always be someone missing.

We only filled two stockings. There should have been three.

I wrapped presents for three of the people I love most in the world, my husband, and my two boys, but what about my little girl?

Two little Christmas out-fits are neatly laid out on the couch ready to be worn by my children to the Christmas Eve service tomorrow night. There should be a little green velvet dress and burgundy shoes with bows sitting right next to the boys' snowman vests and corduroys, but the dress is still in the back of a closet. She will never wear it.

Nothing is quite the way it should be, nor will it ever be.

And yet, there is hope.

Hope found in another baby, the one who came 2000 years ago, born in a stable though He was God Himself. Hope because God made a way for us to be with Eliana again someday. Because He sent His son Jesus into this world to die on the cross for our sin, all we need to do is believe in Him, and accept Him as our Savior. Then, there is nothing that can break that promise, or steal that blessed hope, that we will all be together in heaven, celebrating through all eternity. That is why we can still celebrate tonight.

And though things aren't as they should be now, we are promised in Revelation 21:3-5 that we will not remain in this unfulfilled state forever. Speaking of the future, John writes:

“Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”

And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!”

And that is why when the stockings are empty and the presents are unwrapped, there will be one more box left under our tree; a little package to be opened last. Inside? A little porcelein baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and laying in a manger. Jesus is our greatest gift this Christmas. He is where our hope lies, in placing our faith in Him today, for a future with Him when everything will finally, once and for all be set right.

Merry Christmas, sweet little baby Elli! We wish immensely that you could be in our arms tonight, right in the center of it all, but we are so glad we know with complete assurance that you are with Jesus tonight. I know you are so happy, and so full of awe and wonder at all those beautiful heavenly sights. There you don't even need Christmas lights because the whole place is filled with the light of Jesus, and the angel choirs are singing the most beautiful Christmas hymns there could ever be. I can't wait to see and hear it all with you when the time is right. I love you so much, princess! Can you see the little Christmas tree we made just for you? You are in my heart each moment.
Love,
Mommy

Here is Eliana's tree. We have added lights and a garland, and changed it some since this picture I took right after the boys helped me put some ornaments on.

7 Months

2009-12-09T17:32:00.003-06:00

Happy 7 months in heaven, sweet little Eliana! We are missing you so much as Christmas draws nearer and nearer, and we are remembering you and loving you so much every day!

Over the last two days we have had a big snowstorm, so now your little garden dancer is dancing in the snow! I would so love to be able to spend this Christmas with you, but I feel so much peace when I think of how happy you will be celebrating with Jesus this year. I can't wait till one day when we will be together again. Until then, know that we love you so much, and you will always be our little girl.

Remembering at Christmas

2009-12-07T14:18:00.015-06:00

If you are missing someone you love this Christmas, someone of ANY age who is spending Christmas with Jesus this year, I hope you will join us on this very special Walking With You. We are sharing our Christmas memories and the ways that we remember our loved ones who have gone home to heaven at Christmas time. If you do not have a blog or do not wish to link a post, you may leave your Christmas memories in the comments below. If you do a post on your blog, come back and link up on the MckLinky following this post on Kelly's blog, and you can also enter her give-away.

This year is our first Christmas to remember our daughter Eliana. Last Christmas we were excited to announce our pregnancy with her to all our family members. It was especially exciting when my husband's sister announced her pregnancy too. Our due-dates were just a week apart. Here we are at Christmas last year, so happy to be expecting our third child.

This year we thought we would be bringing our beautiful baby girl to all our Christmas gatherings, letting all our loved ones spend time with her. She would be all decked out in that pretty green velvet Christmas dress my Grandma still has hanging in the back of her closet, and we would allow her to be passed around from one set of loving arms to the next until she couldn't take it anymore and we had to rescue her. There would be lots of presents under the tree with her name on them, and a pretty pink stocking we would fill with little baby toys.

Instead, this year I am thinking of ways to honor her life, and trying to remember that as much as I want her in my arms this Christmas, she is so much better off in the arms of Jesus. Instead of wrapping up presents with her name on them, we picked out some toys we might have chosen for her if she was here to enjoy them to donate to a mission project at church, along with Candy Land that my son picked out. We will plan to do this each Christmas in her honor.

I've also been working on making Christmas ornaments for other families who have lost a baby. Please let me know if you would like one of these. I am still planning to make more before Christmas. You can e-mail me at butterflyelli@yahoo.com, include your address, your child's name and gender, and year of their first Christmas in heaven, and I would love to send one to you.

Usually, each year I take off what I have on top of the entertainment center and set up a Christmas display. This year, I am going to leave it as it is, with Eliana's momentos, and I have just added two Baby's First Christmas rattles that each of our children have played with as babies.

I am planning to decorate a small tree for Eliana this year, with ornaments I have collected over the years since I was a little girl, and some butterflies and other things I have purchased specifically for her. I'm just waiting until my mom can bring the little tree I will be borrowing, so I'll have to post a picture of that later.

Finally, yesterday I purchased some Christmas flowers for Eliana's grave. I went to Wal-Mart, and was pretty disappointed in the selection, but ended up with some red and white flowers that would work. I still want to get one more red one to put in if I can find more at a different Wal-Mart. As I stood out in the cold putting them into the vase, I found myself obsessively trying to get them in there just right, and being continually disappointed with how it was turning out. Then I realized, it's not the flowers I am disappointed with, it's the whole act of celebrating my daughter's Christmas by decorating her grave. This is not the Christmas I had envisioned for her, or for our family. I want to be taking care of her this year, and so I do, in each small way that I can.

The gravestone in the picture is actually my Dad's. Eliana is buried in the same plot, and we haven't been able to purchase her stone yet. The plaque stuck in the ground next to it is her temporary marker that is faded now so you can't read it anymore. We're trying to save up money and hope to have her marker in place before her one year birthday in heaven.

Even as I write these things, and think of how much I miss my daughter, I am continually reminded of the joy she will be experiencing this Christmas in heaven. Joy that is greater than I can imagine, and greater than the very best things I could ever give her here on earth. If I could have one wish-to celebrate Christmas with her-I wouldn't ask to bring her back to be with us, I would ask if our family could please visit her in heaven, for just one day, so she could show us how happy she is, and all the love she is constantly wrapped in.

"Better is One day in your courts than thousands elsewhere." Psalm 84:10

Walking With You: Thankful

2009-11-25T23:42:00.000-06:00

Walking With You is an outreach of Sufficient Grace Ministries, led by Kelly Gerken. Walking With You is a group of mothers who have lost a baby or child who gather together each month to share our stories, to encourage, and pray for one another as we walk this path together. Our hope is that you will be comforted when you join us here...and maybe that we can offer some grace for the journey as we look to the Lord for comfort and strength.

Kelly writes: "This month we are focusing on our gratefulness for the gifts we were given and the ways our lives were changed by the lives of our babies. I know that many people are busy, so this can be as simple or in-depth as you wish. I hope you will link your own post with us, sharing ways that you are thankful. I do think that reflecting on gratefulness is very valuable...especially in the throes of grief. Grief is big and consuming. The simplicity of counting our blessings refocuses a grieving heart from the giants of pain, sorrow, and hopelessness to the hope, comfort, peace, and eventually joy that waits for us on the other side of the valley. The comfort that waits for us in the arms of our Savior."

I am going to re-post something I wrote back in July, documenting all the ways I saw the hand of God in our journey. It has been a blessing for me just to go back and read what was on my heart at that time, and remember God's grace all over again. Tomorrow, while I am sad not to be bringing Eliana with me to meet all our relatives at Thanksgiving, I am so thankful for the short time we had together, for the beauty she brought to my life, and for the promise of our reunion one day in heaven. I am also immeasurably grateful for my husband, two wild little boys, and Eliana's little brother or sister growing safely inside, precious gifts from our Loving Father.

Here is my previous post:

Throughout our difficult journey, the hand of God has been evident in so many ways. In the midst of our sadness, He has truly given us reasons to be thankful and rejoice. He has been our light in the darkness, and I want to display that light for the world.

and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.
Isaiah 61:3

Here are some of the many examples of God's goodness and grace:

1. Even though we didn’t get to keep Eliana, He answered my prayer, and our desires by giving us a baby girl.

2. Even though she wasn’t with us long, He allowed her life to continue long enough for us to find out we had a daughter and fall in love with her.

3. They almost had me wait until 21 weeks to have my ultrasound, but instead they did it early, at 17 weeks and I am so grateful to have known her more fully for a longer period of time.

4. We brought our kids with us to every prenatal appointment, but on the day we found out the bad news, a friend had agreed to keep them for me because it was a longer appointment with the glucose screen. I am so thankful that my children heard about it from us, instead of the technician, and didn’t have to experience the initial shock or my reaction to the news. It was definitely so much better that way.

5. I had the most amazing angel nurses at the hospital, and especially my day nurse who took lots of pictures and talked me through every step of the way.

6. Even though I wanted the induction process to go quickly and get it over with, God knew that I needed more time to process before giving birth. It was 21 hours from when we arrived at the hospital until she was born, and I was in a much better place emotionally when she arrived than I would have been earlier on. I am eternally thankful that I was able to experience my time with her in the best way possible.

7. They talked with me a lot about the possibility of the placenta not coming out and needing to have an immediate D&C after the birth. We prayed about this, and it came out without any complication. That was very important to me, because the last thing I wanted was to have to be under anesthesia during the precious fleeting time we had with her right after the delivery.

8. We were hoping to have some indication of what went wrong for peace of mind’s sake, and when she was born, it was very clear that the cord was both wrapped and knotted. The doctors say it is still not conclusive, but we feel assured that it is likely the cause of death. Of course it doesn’t make losing her any easier, but we do feel blessed to have an idea of what happened.

9. I am thankful God allowed me to live in this time period, with the current knowledge about the best ways to handle infant loss. I know in the past mothers weren’t encouraged to hold their babies or hold memorial services. There are so many things I have been encouraged to do to honor Eliana’s memory, and I know the healing process would be so much more difficult if I had to face it in isolation.

10. I am so thankful beyond words for a special friend who visited me in the hospital, brought me flowers, and lots of food after we came home. She is the one who was taking care of our kids the day we went into the hospital. The coolest thing of all is that she told us after taking her children home from our house, her oldest son was asking a lot of questions about what happened to our baby, and over the course of the conversation He made a decision to receive Christ! She shared this with us in the hospital before Eliana was even born, and it was so amazing because I had just been telling my husband and mom that what I wanted most of all was for Eliana’s life to have an impact on this world to reach people with the gospel! Our first little convert was that very day. Praise the Lord!

11. I feel that left to myself, I can’t even imagine the state I would have been in during our time at the hospital and immediately following. Before this experience, I had sometimes imagined what it might be like to lose a child, and I felt it might be the one thing that I could not endure. I always hoped I would never know that pain, but when it came time for me to face it, I was not alone. I have said this before, but it was a truly supernatural experience the way God carried us through the early days. I think our hospital room was filled with a myriad of angels, and a blanket of peace was wrapped tightly around us. Our hearts were broken, but we were not without hope and comfort. I am so thankful to have experienced God on such a deep and personal level, and to discover the true meaning of so many of His promises.

12. God showed His love for us on our first Sunday back at church. Instead of having a regular service, a band called Ineloquent played, and their whole concert seemed to relate directly to our situation. It was as if they were there just for us, which I know is not a coincidence.

13. We wanted Eliana's funeral to glorify and magnify God, and the Holy Spirit was very present with us that day. We had our current pastor and the pastor from my home church speak, and it flowed together so beautifully, finishing with my 3-year-old niece spontaneously singing amazing grace from behind the curtain in the nursery. I was so blessed by the service and I know many others were touched as well.

14. I know God had a hand in the timing of all of this. It all happened just after the semester ended for my sister who teaches college. She was able to come for the funeral, and stay with me for a week afterwards helping during a time when I could not have handled it on my own. I am so grateful that she was able to do that for me and I know it was part of God's plan.

15. Soon after we got back from the hospital, I picked up my Bible and began reading Psalms. I was convinced this was the assigned reading for my Bible study group, though I later found out it was actually Proverbs. I know God specifically led me there because He wanted speak those Psalms directly into my heart.

16. Two little boys and a house full of toys. The day we came home, my in-laws offered to keep our boys, but we both wanted to bring them home. It was the most amazing comfort to hug them tightly, hear them laughing, and watch them play. Tucking them in that night was emotional, but so beautiful. The love we have for them has been deepened by our loss, and we are so grateful for the way they fill our hearts and our days with this love. In many ways they have been my lifeline, the reason to get up in the morning and face each day.

17. We have been so touched, beyond words by the outpouring of love we’ve received from so many friends and loved ones. My sisters gave me two special gifts: an angel holding a baby, and a “reunion ring” designed as a heart with a tear-drop shaped hole in it that will only be filled on our reunion day. My mom also gave me some special gifts, and we received meals, gifts, cards, phone calls, visits, and hugs from so many people it is too much to list. God has blessed me greatly through my mom's group at church, our church family as a whole, and other friends and family.

18. I am so thankful for my husband and the wonderful gift He is from the Lord. These types of trials are never easy on a marriage, but He has been such a source of strength and encouragement. He has been so willing to pick up the slack with the kids and other responsibilities. He is patient with me in my grief, and loving to me through my sadness. I'm so blessed to experience all of our weeping and rejoicing together as one.

I know I will think of more things after posting this list, but I am just in awe of God’s grace to us in our trials, and all the evidence that He is still in control, working all things together for our good in the tapestry of our lives. I once heard that like in a tapestry, all we can see of our lives is the back side, with all the loose threads and changing colors that don’t seem to make sense. God can see the front side of the tapestry, where all the things that appear to be a mess are woven together into a bigger picture that is perfect and beautiful. Someday when this life is over, we will see it as He sees it, and understand the full purpose He has for our lives. I don’t know what my tapestry will look like, but I trust that God's work is always perfect!

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
1 Corinthians 13:12

Remembering...

2009-11-23T21:36:00.004-06:00

So, I have taken a little sabbatical from blogging these last couple of weeks, because our lives have been so busy. The cool part is, some of the busyness has related to remembering Eliana, so while I haven't gotten to write about her, I have had other opportunities to think of her lately.

Last week the funeral home we worked with had a special ceremony for the families of children lost this year. It is really an amazing and touching thing that they do. They have a children's garden on their grounds full of metal statues they call garden dancers. Each one depicts either a boy or girl and has a child's name cut out of the metal. I first noticed these in 2007 when I attended a funeral there for another baby at our church, and I wondered about them. Never would I have guessed that I would soon know all to well what they signify.

We received an invitation in the mail to come to a memory ceremony, so we decided to participate. It was at 2 PM, naptime for our youngest, so my husband carried him in on his shoulder, and I was relieved to see when we entered they had big frosted butterfly cookies available to help keep my oldest entertained, and to give our younger son if he woke up during the ceremony. They had a neat program, led by a women who had lost her baby boy in 2005, with a poetry reading, candle lighting, and beautiful violin and harp music. It was emotional to be back in the same place again, where we had her service, but also peaceful to be able to return, and realize that some healing has taken place since we were there in May. At the close of the ceremony, we were told to go outside and get our little dancer.

We went out into the children's garden, and began looking at all the names on the dancers. At first I didn't see ours, but a woman helped point her out to us, and there she was, dancing in the sun, with Eliana written beautifully across her dress. It was so special to see her standing there with all the other kids looking so pretty and joyful, and to know we would be bringing her home.

I think it's such an act of love that the funeral home does this for each family. It was all started by the family of the woman who led the ceremony, to memorialize their son Allan, and bring comfort to all the families who would come through those doors after them sharing similar losses. One thing that has been so precious for me to see through all of this, is how so many people work through their grief by loving and reaching out to others, and turn the love they have for their child into something beautiful to touch the lives around them. I've seen that through so many of you through your blogs, and others in real life.

We took the dancer home in the car and put her underneath a tree at the side of our house. Right away the boys wanted to stand with her and get their picture taken. I felt so glad to have something so beautiful as a memorial, with her name on it, especially since we haven't been able to afford a grave marker for her yet. It's been bothering me for a while that we haven't been able to create a place just for her yet, besides the momentos set up in our house, so I'm really glad this can be the beginning of setting up a special spot in our own yard.

At the same time, it hurt so much to be bringing home a metal statue bearing the name Eliana, when all we wanted was to bring home our little girl, and to watch her blossom and grow and dance in the sun-light. Somehow the reality of all we are missing hit home all over again, and the pain of leaving the hospital with empty arms.

Bittersweet is definitely the word for our little garden dancer. I feel so blessed to have been given this special gift, and yet so deeply sad to have only a hard cold statue to represent the soft, lovable baby I want so much to be holding. And yet, here she is, with her cute little bouncy pony-tail, arms stretched toward the sky with her little heart balloon, and a smile on her face, with the most beautiful name in the world. Always a part of our family, always a part of our souls--Eliana.

Wednesdays for Wyatt

2009-11-11T23:01:00.002-06:00

Here we go! Our third Wednesday for Wyatt! It’s quite simple to participate. All you have to do is copy and paste this post on your blog, and come back here to link up with MckLinky! Once you do that, your all set to win a great giveaway.

So far, we are up to 1,443 signatures! Lets try to keep them steadily rolling in.

For those of you who are not familiar with my family and what we are trying to achieve, here’s a brief run down...

Our son Wyatt was diagnosed with a fatal condition at our 18 week ultrasound, but chose to carry him to term. We waited to meet our son with love, all the time praying we would get to see him alive.

On June 1, 2009, Wyatt made his way into the world by c-section. To our amazement he had a faint heartbeat and was breathing! He died two minutes later, but I’ve clung to the two minutes my son and I breathed the same air since his passing.

Upon calling to get a copy of Wyatt’s birth certificate, I found out he was listed as a stillborn. You would assume it was a mistake (like I did), but there was no mistake. According to the definition of live birth in Tennessee my son was not “alive enough” to be deemed a live born baby. His two minutes of life has gone unrecognized by my state, and I intend to change this piece of legislation so I can solidify the validity of my son’s short life.

Wednesdays for Wyatt was created to help spread awareness for a law that needs to be changed, as well as to generate more traffic to my petition. So if you’re reading this, thanks for taking the time to help our family!

This contest will be open today only. I will close MckLinky down sometime before midnight, so make sure you get linked up ASAP to make sure you are entered to win this giveaway! Thanks for helping everyone, and good luck.

6 Months

2009-11-09T20:46:00.002-06:00

I can't believe it has been six months since we first held our baby girl. In many ways, I am frozen in time. I've continued with my commitments and responsibilities, my son has had another birthday, but sometimes when I am absent-mindedly opening my planner, I flip to a month much further back than the one I am in, and have to stop to think, "Oh yeah, it's not August, it's already November!"

In many ways, I imagined myself at this time much further along in the grieving process than I find myself today. Although functioning, I'm still often in survival mode, living one day at a time. Suddenly a huge dead-line will sneak up on me as if out of nowhere, or, the classic example, one week I actually completely forgot to go to work because the schedule was different than every other week, and didn't even realize it until the next day when I was about to go in! Of course, I can blame some of this on preggo brain, but I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I am still just existing, but not fully investing myself in the long-term.

Many of the things I'm doing now are things I wouldn't be doing if my little three-month old daughter was here. It makes it hard to fully commit my heart to these things, because they are all playing second fiddle to the single greatest thing I would be doing instead, had she lived. This, of course, doesn't include our newest Little One. Although there is little chance we would have had babies this close together, it is definitely possible. Baby June is my little compass, helping me to orient myself, to keep track of the days and weeks, and look ahead, albeit cautiously, with hope toward the future.

While in many ways it seems I've barely moved forward, in other ways it feels like far too much time has passed since Eliana was here with us, growing and kicking in the womb. I feel her slipping away from me, as the memories begin to fade, and the gap gets wider and wider separating her existence from mine. I know she isn't as far away as she seems, but it still saddens me as I feel time increasing the separation.

If she was still here, she would be getting stronger every day, pushing up on her arms during tummy time and trying to roll over. She would be smiling at her big brothers, and snuggling up to her Daddy when he came home from work. We would still have her sleeping in our room, and probably coming into our bed in the wee hours of morning when I would be too tired to get up for a feeding session. Now that this much time has passed, it's hard to even picture these things. They are like a hazy, distant dream that will never be.

Eliana, I still miss you terribly, and wish I could just go back and hold you one more time, making more precious memories. But it would never be enough to last for all the moments I will spend without you. You are always in our hearts, and on our minds. One day this separation will be over and I will hold you in my arms again, together for all eternity praising our Lord. Happy 6 months in heaven, Sweet Baby Girl!

Baby's First Christmas-In Heaven

2009-11-01T21:01:00.004-06:00

As the holidays are quickly approaching, I am reminded of Eliana in two different ways. First, we will soon enter the time when I found out I was pregnant last year. As I've posted before, I originally intended to keep it a secret, and surprise my husband on Christmas, but excitement got the better of me, and I gave him an early gift instead. He opened a little package with a Christmas ornament of a baby carriage, so in a way, that is Eliana's first ornament, and that was her first and only Christmas with us.

Fast forward a year, and I am thinking of her as I imagined she would be this Christmas, chubby cheeks and curly dark hair, wearing the beautiful green velvet dress from my Grandma and the little burgundy shoes from my mom lighting up our Christmas in her own special way. I would be hanging a Baby's First Christmas ornament for her this year, and watching her smile at all the Christmas lights and decorations.

Unfortunately for us, that was not our path for this year, we don't get to have her celebrate with us, but we know she gets something better. As happy as our Christmas would have been with her here, it doesn't compare to what she will experience, celebrating in the very presence of Jesus, having the best Christmas party ever, in heaven! I wish I could see her little face light up with joy.

Since I won't be getting to hang the traditional baby's first Christmas ornament, I wanted to find a way to celebrate Eliana's first Christmas in heaven, so I came up with this design.

I would like to make many more for baby's who are spending Christmas in heaven. This is one more tangible way to celebrate and commemorate the lives of our butterflies who flew off too soon. Please let me know if I can make an ornament for your little one! You can comment here, and also e-mail me your address at butterflyelli@yahoo.com so I can send one to you. If 2009 isn't your baby's first heavenly Christmas, let me know, and I can make one with a different year on it, or have it say something different and customize it how you would like it. Feel free to spread the word, I would love to make one for as many people as I can.

Going Back

2009-10-30T21:39:00.003-05:00

One of the hardest things for anyone who has experienced a traumatic event is to revisit the scene where the tragedy originally took place, and allow the experience to wash over them anew. Today, I went back to my OB/GYN office for my first appointment for Baby June not anticipating what an emotional event it would be for me. I have been back to this building several times, because our pediatrician also has his office there, and each time I enter the parking lot, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Today I had to walk through the double doors, down the hallway, and enter into the office where I received the most heart-breaking news of my life.

Near me in the waiting room was one woman looking sick as she swallowed her drink for the glucose screen, the last thing I did before finding out about Eliana. While I sat there, another girl came in for her 6 week check-up with a new baby girl. As she was checking in, the baby began to cry and it just pierced my heart. I was there for nearly two hours, and spent the whole time holding back tears. Words, voices, images from that day in May, kept running through my head as I sat there trying to remind myself that I was there for Baby June. How do you simultaneously rejoice over one baby, when your heart is still aching for another? I have to wait for God to teach my heart how to do this. I love this baby already, but I am sad for Baby June, because I miss just being blissfully happy about pregnancy, instead of cautiously optimistic.

They did an early ultrasound, and I lay on the table just waiting to see the status of my Little One, and trying not to think of the last time I was in that room. I don’t ever want to hear “I’m sorry…” again while I am laying on that table.

Since I am 5 weeks, 1 day into the pregnancy, the tech explained it is very early to try to see anything. When typing out her report, I saw “probable gestational sac, no yolk sac, no fetal pole.” This was not reassuring to me at all. I asked her if this is normal at this stage, and her reply was:

“Yes, it’s very early to detect a pregnancy, and you may have ovulated later than you thought. They will do your blood work today to check your levels and make sure everything looks good.”

Again, not so reassuring when it’s my baby’s life in the balance! While no one seemed to be concerned but me, this put me on absolute emotional overload. After my blood work was done and we left, I was visibly shaken, and my husband decided to take the rest of the day off from work.

It’s not so much that we received bad news about Baby June. In fact, it appears there really isn’t anything to worry about at this point. I did get a call back from the practitioner this afternoon saying my levels are good, and they don’t need me to come back in until my next appointment. Now it’s just a matter of waiting 5 weeks, when I will be far enough along to hear the heartbeat and hopefully have a reassuring ultrasound.

I think it was just so hard being in that room again, going back to the scene of my greatest nightmare, and not being able to see anything that tells me Baby June is doing well. It just brought everything from that day back to me in such a fresh way, it was almost like experiencing it all over again. I still miss my daughter so much, and yet, for the sake of this new little one, I know I need to be strong, and stay positive, and send all the happy thoughts I can to let this baby know how loved he/she is, to help him/her to grow and thrive. At times I wish I could just hit fast forward to June, so I wouldn’t have to live in this uncertainty, but I know I really do need this time to continue to grieve, and to get to know Baby June before I’m ready to meet him/her. Until then I am relying on God to guide me through this journey of the heart; to give me the peace, strength, faith, hope, and love that is only found in Him, as I miss my beautiful baby girl, and anticipate her little brother or sister simultaneously. It’s a dance of love to which I am just beginning to learn the steps.

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Ephesians 3:16-19

And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. Romans 5:5

Hello in There, Little One

2009-10-25T16:05:00.009-05:00

Hello in there, Little One! This is what I keep thinking as I try to wrap my brain around the fact that I am pregnant! I got my first BFP a week ago, but it was more of a faint than a fat positive, and proceeded to disappear.
Today I decided to post, after I got my B-er, F-er P.:) This time, the preggo line came out way darker than the control line, and it was the control line that started to disappear, so I don't know what's with me and the disappearing lines.

I am without words when I think about how to post about this. I feel excited, hopeful, happy, and blessed, while at the same time anxious and fearful, to think that there is really life inside of me again. Somehow just a week ago, that concept seemed like such a remote, far away possibility. I've spent the last five months convincing myself, that "no, you are not going to have a baby," and averting my eyes from the infant sections in department stores to protect my heart. Now, all of a sudden, that is no longer the case, and it's time to open my heart to all the wishing, hoping, planning, and dreaming again! It's almost too much to take in! I already love this little one with every fiber of my being, and yet when I try to imagine actually holding a crying baby in my arms in June, I can only tear up, because it still seems like some distant dream. I know this time, it will be a one day at a time journey, as we love our baby every step of the way.

My husband and sons are beyond excited. My youngest son already gave the baby a nickname. After we explained to them the baby was expected in June, he said "Is Baby June gonna come?" So, Baby June it is, until we decide on a name.:) We are praying, hoping, and believing for Baby June to come wiggling and screaming into our lives next summer.

Over the Top

2009-10-25T15:27:00.008-05:00

Thank you to both Bree and Lea for nominating me for an Over the Top Award. Here are my "one-word answers," I just had to get a little "over the top" on a couple of them!;)

1. Where is your cell phone? charger
2. Your hair? down
3. Your mother? work?
4. Your father? heaven
5. Your favorite food? pizza
6. Your dream last night? crazy
7. Your favorite drink? water
8. Your dream/goal? healthy baby
9. What room are you in? office
10. Your hobby? crafts
11. Your fear? loss
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? bigger house with kiddos to fill it.
13. Where were you last night? Home
14. Something that you aren't? Bored!
15. Muffins? raspberry
16. Wish list item? House
17. Where did you grow up? Iowa
18. Last thing you did? baked pumpkin bars
19. What are you wearing? comfy shirt and PJ pants
20. Your TV? off
21. Your pets? none
22. Friends? absolutely
23. Your life? Bittersweet
24. Your mood? rollercoaster
25. Missing someone? Eliana
26. Vehicle? minivan!
27. Something you’re not wearing? Socks
28. Your favorite store? Target
29. Your favorite color? pink
30. When was the last time you laughed? yesterday
31. Last time you cried? today
32. Your best friend? True
33. One place that I go to over and over? grocery store!(twice in the last two days)
34. One person who emails me regularly? Mom
35. Favorite place to eat? Olive Garden

I am passing this award on to:

Franchesca at Handprints From Heaven
Rachel at Waiting for Morning
Amy at From My Point of View
Lisa at House of Collinsworth

Saying Good Night to My Little Ones

2009-10-17T23:28:00.003-05:00

Tucking my youngest son Jayden into bed tonight, I just felt so strongly how much I am missing Eliana. I sat down on the floor next to his bed, and laid my head down next to him as we talked. He brought up Bob the builder, and some other fun topics on his mind, and nestled his cheek lovingly against mine. He stayed like that and began to breath deeper and settle into sleep. I was just overcome by how much I love him. I have hardly been able to look at my sons’ baby pictures without crying since we lost Eliana, but tonight memories of his babyhood just started flooding my mind. Holding, talking, nursing, rocking…you get the picture.

Suddenly it was as though his soft, chubby little cheek could have been Eliana’s cheek, and I could be laying my head beside her at two years old, reliving the same perfect memories I had spent with her. Tears started to come, but the angle that I was laying kept them from dripping onto Jayden and disturbing his rest. What I wouldn’t give to have even one memory of her, holding her in my arms while her sweet little spirit was alive within her body. I know in some ways, it would probably hurt even more, but in another way, it would hurt less. I haven’t dreamt of her yet, but maybe God will let me dream of her in my arms sometime soon.

I wonder if people who haven’t experienced this type of loss would be baffled to know how deeply we grieve for our babies, and how profoundly we are touched by their little lives. For me, the depth of feeling just shows again to me the reality that we are created by God, with a unique spirit, and a sacred quality to our lives because we are designed for Him, and designed for love.

When I carried Eliana, I could feel the weight of her soul within me. Some of you might have seen a little poem that says “your heart within my heart…your life within my life.” It is so true. To actually carry the spirit of a child within your own body, is a bond greater than any of us even realize until we lose one. Since her death, it seems I have felt the weight and significance that her life carries to an even greater degree. She has impacted me so greatly, that it would be impossible to ever carry on as the same person I was before I knew her. Some might say, “but you didn’t even know her at all.” In a sense, that’s true, but in another sense, we had that body/soul connection that can only come from the Creator God. I have to admit that as much as I knew I loved her before, and as much as I loved my sons in the womb, I really didn’t know the true depth of it until I experienced what it was like to lose her at that stage.

I am healing. At first it was difficult, but now I love to just laugh with my boys, and hug them tight. In the beginning, every little thing I did with them was a painful reminder of what I would miss with Eliana. Now, those thoughts come less and less often, and a lot of the time I can genuinely have some light-hearted fun with them. Then there are other times, like tonight, when I am just missing, missing, missing.

Her two older brothers sleep peacefully tonight, my treasures on earth. I know my treasure in heaven is probably not sleeping at all, but I can only guess at what glorious thing she might be doing at this very moment while I miss her.

Good Night, Eliana. Some bright morning, when this life is over, I will wake up with you.

5 Months of Memories

2009-10-09T14:48:00.026-05:00

Dear Eliana,

5 months ago today, was the day we saw you for the very first time, held you in our arms, and sang to you. It was the saddest day because we had to let you go, but it was a precious day, because we got to see you for just a little while. Even though I was almost 26 weeks pregnant, I actually only knew about you for 5 months. I can't believe that I have now been living without you for the same amount of time that I knew you were alive. Those are months that I will hang onto forever, remembering until the day we are together again.

When I first found out I was expecting you, I was so happy! It was getting close to Christmas, so I thought it would be a perfect present for Daddy if I could keep it a secret until then. Soon, my excitement won over, though, and I decided I had to tell him sooner. Grandma and Grandpa Kline were taking care of your brothers, so Daddy and I decided to go out to eat together. I told him I had one early Christmas present for him. I wrapped up a little baby carriage ornament and a baby bib. He was really surprised and so happy about you! Soon we told Caedmon he was going to have a baby brother or sister. He said "Is it really true, Daddy?!" He was thrilled to know you were on the way and would be here before his 5th birthday.

When we went out to eat at Long John Silver's, before telling the rest of the family, Caedmon announced loudly to the whole restaurant, "We're going to have a new baby!" Thank goodness no one was there who knew us!

At Christmas, we surprised my family by wrapping up a gift for Grandma Vicky to open. It was a box with some diapers that said "Another Little One to love and snuggle, August 2009." Grandma, Aunt Mary, Aunt Shanya, Grandma and Grandpa Bryngelson, and all Mommy's aunts, uncles, and cousins were so happy for us! People started saying, "Maybe it will be a little girl this time!" Here we are as a happy family on Christmas, full of anticipation to spend Christmas with you next year.

We let Caedmon tell Grandma Kline at lunch. He said "We have a surprise!...A new car!" (Your brother has a silly sense of humor) Then he said, "We're going to have a baby!" At the Kline Christmas, Aunt Sarah and Uncle Jonathan announced they were expecting too! Everyone was so happy about both you and your cousin, and Sarah and I were excited you would be so close in age!

You were with me on my 28th birthday when I made a wish for a healthy baby. My cake even had butterflies on it, and one of them is the one that Caedmon sent with you in your casket.

Daddy spent my birthday painting the house to put it on the market. We wanted to move to make more room for you!

On Valentine's Day, Daddy made a special cookie cake that said "K X 5" meaning that you made us a family of 5 Klines.

Grandma Vicky helped Caedmon make some Valentine people to look like our family, and when he made Mommy, he wanted to make the baby in Mommy's tummy too.

On March 11th we found out that you were a girl, and couldn't have been any happier. Daddy and I went out and bought some clothes for you. Everyone was so excited for us. Grandma Barbara reminded me that she still had a beautiful Christmas dress and a snowsuit in her closet that she was saving for my little girl. They would be just the right size for you this year. Soon after that I began feeling your little flutters and kicks, and a couple weeks later, Daddy could feel it too. I loved feeling you move throughout the day, and sometimes even at night I would wake up just to feel you swishing around. Also in March, we celebrated Daddy turning 30 with a big yummy ice cream cake. I know you loved ice cream just as much as I do!!

In April you were with us at Easter as we celebrated Jesus' Ressurection. Caedmon, Jayden, and your cousin Julia all had fun visiting the Easter bunny, and I looked forward to having you celebrate with us next year, wearing the lamb dress Daddy and I bought for you.

We had our first Snookies' ice cream of the year in April, and I'm sure you got a taste of Mommy's strawberry milkshake!

I was so happy to be carrying you through all our fun times and memories of those 5 months, and always looked forward to you joining us next year in all our fun!

Your last week with us was extra special. We did so many fun things together that week! We took you to Grandpa's choir concert and to the circus.

Caedmon had his last night as a "Cubbie" at Awanas.

On three different days we went to Waterworks park to enjoy the beauty of God's creation. Every year we love to go there while the cherry blossom trees are in bloom. These were our last special memories as a family of 5. Our times with you were some of the happiest of our lives, and we miss you and love you always!

Loving you with all our hearts, Baby Elli!

Walking through the Flames

2009-10-06T23:39:00.007-05:00

As I sit here tonight, I am overcome with love, with joy, and with gratitude for the life of my special little girl. Even as I continue to long for her in my arms, and close my eyes to imagine the sound of her sweet newborn cries, I can still just praise God from the deepest part of my heart, for the gift He has given me in allowing her to come into my life for the short time she was here.

There have been brief moments when I have wondered, why did God give me the deepest desire of my heart, a baby girl, only to take her to heaven so quickly, before I even laid eyes on her? Wouldn’t it have been easier if we had just had difficulty conceiving, or in some other way had been spared the heartache of having her only to let her go? I know I am not alone in these thoughts, but I continue to move past them to embrace the truth.

The truth is, I would never trade one moment of the time I carried Eliana, and if I did I would completely miss God's awesome plan for her life and my life. It only took her 6 months in the womb to fulfill God’s pre-determined purpose for her precious life, and that purpose is still being lived out in us, who love her and have been deeply touched by her spirit. The Bible says in Psalm 139:13-16 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

Before we conceived, God knew what would take place. He was fully in control, and allowed it to happen for a reason. We don’t understand all the reasons, but what we do know is, that He promises All thing work together for good to those who love the Lord, to those who have been called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28. He is using all of this for Eliana’s good, and wants to use it for our good. She will never know heartache, pain, rejection, or fear, only love and joy.

In the hospital, soon after hearing the news that Eliana’s life had ended, I had this amazing comfort in knowing that she was already in God’s presence, even as her body remained in my womb. It was strange to think about, but at the same time wonderful, that my own little daughter was already with her Savior and mine, seeing His face, enjoying His presence, learning amazing things, experiencing pure fullness of joy and endless light.

I was in anguish over how much I love her, and want to be with her, and God continually spoke to my heart “I love her even more than you do, and I love you both infinitely more than you can imagine.” It is hard to imagine a love deeper than our own love for our babies, but in our imperfection we can never match the depth of His love. Paul writes in Ephesians 3:17-19: And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. That is what happened in that hospital room, and that is what continues to happen in our lives as we swim through the sea of grief, we are amazed and perplexed by the love God speaks into our hearts.

I finally understand what it really means to turn my life over to Jesus. It goes far beyond turning away from sin. It is the daily surrendering of every single thing I could call my own, and making it His. He created us to love our children with all of our heart, and yet if we love Him we realize that they don’t belong to us, they are His.

To carry Eliana for 6 beautiful months was an incredible gift. To know her and love her has changed my life forever. It has changed our family forever. I pray that it has and will change many more lives forever, and all to glorify God and point people to Him.

I long for heaven more than ever before. Along with the awesome presence of God, it is amazing that I now have another tremendously precious treasure waiting for me when I get there. And yet, while waiting for heaven, I feel a greater sense of purpose on this earth than I have ever felt. I want to allow God to do anything and everything through me that He desires, to work His purpose and will for Eliana’s life and for my own life.

There are so many things that my girl has taught me. For someone so tiny, who never even took a breath of our air, it is amazing what she has already accomplished in this world. All of this is by the hand of God. There is nothing that we can experience that hasn’t passed through His hand first, including our deepest heartaches.

Losing a child was once my greatest fear, and worst nightmare. That was what I hoped never to experience, and I wondered if it could be the only thing from which I would never recover. Now, I am swimming right in the middle of this sea of grief, sometimes rising above the surface, sometimes barely treading water, afraid of drowning. In no way is the trial over, but I am profoundly aware of Jesus as my life preserver, never allowing me to sink. I love Isaiah 43: 1-3 Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine! When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you. For I am the Lord your God…your Savior.

Dear Father,

Thank you so much for giving me a precious gift, for answering my prayer with the blessing of a baby girl. I love how you are using her to draw me ever closer to You, and to impact the lives of others around me. She is a miracle baby, and you are the Miracle Maker. Whenever my soul aches to be with her, I know you are right here with me, and feeling my pain as only You can. You who gave Your only Son, holy and blameless, so that I could live, and so Eliana and me, and all those who believe in your name can be together one day with You for all eternity. Lord, help me to continue to trust You with my life, and Eliana’s life. Strengthen my faith in You as You continue working in our lives through this time of deep waters and burning flames. Because You carry us, I know we will emerge on the other side not drowned or scorched, but transformed further into Your image, carrying scars that tell a story of Your love and Your grace.

2 Corinthians 4:7-9 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

Thank You

2009-10-01T22:26:00.012-05:00

I feel so blessed to post two more special tributes to Eliana. Lea from Nicholas' Touch made these beautiful angel wings for her. They help me to think of how she is surrounded by angels in heaven, joining in the most beautiful songs of praise and worship to our great God. I like to think of her being carried to heaven by angels when she left my body, and being personally escorted directly to Jesus. What a lucky girl my Elli is, and I envy those angels who were priviledged to carry her! Thank you so much, Lea, what a beautiful thing you are doing!

I am so excited that Eliana has a butterfly now from my friend ,Bree! I love to think of Eliana whenever I see a butterfly, you can read more about this in my post from the butterfly garden. It really touches my heart to see how Bree and others are reaching out in their pain to help ease the burden of other's who share in the same tragedy. Seeing Eliana's name on Bree's blog is a true gift, to know that she is remembered and honored beyond the walls of our house. Through her butterfly project, Bree is honoring the life of her sweet baby girl Ella in such a meaningful way.

Eliana's Hope Collage

2009-09-24T20:06:00.005-05:00

Thank you so much to Franchesca for creating this beautiful hope collage for Eliana. It is so perfect! What a sweet way to honor our baby with her name, and special words of love. View more collages, or request your own at Abiding Hope Collages.

My Dinosaur

2009-09-22T21:52:00.008-05:00

Happy Birthday to my ferocious dinosaur Caedmon!! My first little one is getting so tall and growing up so quickly! He is five years old today! Thank you, Caedmon, for filling my days with so many inquisitive questions, so much fun and laughter, and so much love!!!

Five Years ago today:

4 Months of Shadows

2009-09-08T23:41:00.007-05:00

On May 8th, 2009, something happened in the universe. There was a split of some sort, a glitch, a wrinkle, in time and space, and life has never been the same again. It begins with a visit to the Dr., and heart-wrenching news about our baby. The world splits in two, and my heart and consciousness along with it. The very atmosphere begins to twist and turn, spinning in circles, and we are plunged downward, into the shadoworld. Suddenly, like some macabre version of Alice in Wonderland, everything is upside-down, nothing is as it should be.

My surroundings are a blur as I walk through the double doors and down the long corridors to the hospital. I am vaguely aware that somewhere beside me, behind me, are my husband and his Dad. But I don’t see them, I hardly know they are there. I am not myself anymore, but only a fragment. I continue to walk, first right, then left, up the elevator, and to the desk to check in.

In the waiting room nearby I hear an excited Daddy saying on the phone “Our baby girl is here! She’s little, only 5 lbs., but she is healthy and doing great!” Meanwhile I have to explain to the nurse at check-in why I am here. I am numb as I fill out the papers, J-E-S-S…, is that even who I am anymore?

I follow the nurse down the corridor, trying not to see the gigantic blown-up photos of perfect, beautiful, living newborns. I am in complete shock as she shows us to our room. How is it that I am in this place of hopes and dreams, living out my worst nightmare? My father-in-law says something sweet and heart-felt. “Even though she was only with us for a short time, she was dearly loved by all of us.” On some level, it comforts my heart, but on another level I am in disbelief that we could be speaking of her in the past tense. She is right here inside of me!!

Thank God the nurse who is assigned to me is an absolute angel, because when you are in the shadoworld the darkness is so thick that even an angel casts only a pale glow. She is understanding and kind as she explains to me the procedures for the induction and describes what it will be like after she is born. I begin to cry as she talks about holding her, counting all her finger and toes…I am not supposed to hold her yet! It should be another 3 months of blissful discomfort until I am rewarded with her crying and wiggling in my arms. This is not happening, it must be a horrible, bad dream.

The day drags on, and turns into night. Contractions haven’t started yet, and I am given a sleeping pill. In my dreams that night I am swallowed by shadows in a nightmare that my baby has died. I toss and turn and scramble and fight to finally wake up, only to realize that it is life itself that is the bad dream. I weep quietly in the darkness of our hospital room and wish for an escape.

Our time in the hospital is filled with visitors praying with us, sharing scripture, loving us in the Lord, and we have an inexplicable peace. But still there is this sense that life as we know it has been split in two, and somewhere, on the other side, we are living our normal lives, trying to sell our house, and anxiously waiting for Eliana to be born.

I hold my baby girl for the first time, and she is amazing, she is beautiful, she is a gift from God, but she is so tiny, far too tiny. She is so still, and how can we break this unspeakable silence?? We sing to her, we hold her, we love her, but how can we say good-bye when all we want to do is say hello? This is not how it’s supposed to be.

The next morning, our family arrives. It is exactly like when each of our boys were born. I sit on the bed, holding her all pink and wrapped up in her blankets. They all file in, everyone who loves us and loves her so much, waiting to see her, to hold her. I try to be strong, I almost begin to sob as I watch them coming in, but somehow, they are all smiling exactly as if she were alive. It seems inappropriate to cry. They hold her, pass her around, we snap lots of pictures. This is all so surreal, why is she so still and so quiet? Something is wrong with this picture.

In the days that follow, I spend every waking minute working on the plans for her funeral service. Ever detail has to be perfect, the music, the programs, the pictures we will display, the items we will set out in her memory, the special things we will send with her in her casket. This is all I will ever get to do to take care of my baby.

Her service is perfect. Our two pastors do a beautiful job, the whole thing brings glory to God, exactly like we wanted. At the cemetery, the funeral director asks me if I want to help close the tiny casket. My oldest son helps me, and we gently place all the fabric in around her, the only time we will ever tuck her in. We see her face for the last time as the lid is placed on top.

After this, hours turn into days, days to weeks, and weeks to months. Life continues to go by. We get up in the morning, we eat, we live out our day. Life begins to slightly resemble normalcy. Summer meanders along, as we fill our days with activities for the boys: soccer, walks, playground outings, swimming pools. But, I am lost. I feel disoriented and confused. My responsibilities and commitments remain the same, while I am profoundly and permanently changed. I can’t shake this feeling that something is severely wrong.

I am dizzy and falling down from all the spinning of this crazy shadoworld I’ve been thrown into. I have to get back to the other side, back to my former self, back to the way things should be. I ache, I cry, I push and pull and fight, clawing and scraping, longing and yearning to reach…

__________________

The light. It pours in through the window behind me as I sit tired and content in the rocking chair. The sun warms my back and envelopes me in a blanket of tranquility. The room is painted an antique white. Beside me is the cherry wood crib we found on Craigslist for such a good price, adorned with the gorgeous pink and green rosebud bedding I had bought before I was even expecting a girl. On the wall above the crib is her name spelled out in swirling script: Eliana. We had so much fun decorating her nursery. In fact, after we bought our new house the first thing we did was to prepare her room and the boys’ airplane room. We hurried and scrambled to get the rest of the house into some semblance of order before she came. There is still so much left to do, but it can wait, there are more important things to do.

And in my lap, here she is. She is lying on her back across the tops of my legs, the perfect position for our daily ritual of talking and cooing. I gaze lovingly at her and marvel at her exquisite beauty, but I have no tears to cry. This moment is pure, sweet joy, untainted by the shadoworld that exists without her, somewhere in another dimension.

Her to-die-for long lashes are just like her two brothers, and like her cousin Julia, she has more than her share of adorable black curls. Her eyes are a bright, shiny blue, at least for now, and they are a combination of mine and her Daddy’s. Her mouth has the same adorable pout that the boys got from their Dad, but with fuller lips like mine. We have always taken pride in the chubby cheeks of our newborns, and Eliana doesn’t disappoint. She has a cute little round face that just makes you want to kiss her every second.

I smile at her and say “Hello sweet baby girl, are you gonna talk to mama?” She looks up at me so sweetly, and gives me one of those award-winning smiles that spreads across her face and turns into a full body squirm. “What do you say, Elli? Do you have any stories to tell mama today?” She begins to kick and squirm, moving her little fists, and her breath quickens. All the effort finally pays off with one little coo that comes out of her lips and seems to surprise her, as her face lights up all over again.

This continues for quite some time until she begins to get sleepy. She stops making eye contact and begins to fuss a little bit. I put in her paci and lay her on the soft cribsheet, patting her tummy until she closes her eyes.

All of a sudden the door bursts open, and in rushes Caedmon holding a couple of plastic dinosaurs, and Jayden with some trains. “We wanna play with Baby Elli too!” they shout, and immediately she is startled awake and begins an urgent, high-pitched cry. I quickly pick her up from her crib with a sigh. I don’t even want to think about the mess that waits for me in the boys’ room. I haven’t had a shower yet, in fact the only one in the house who has changed out of pajamas so far is Elli. Soon I will need to get lunch on the table. But for right now, it doesn’t matter, we have all the time in the world. The calming ritual begins all over again. I hold her warm body closely and pat her back, singing to her, each of us breathing tranquillity into the other, and we sit like that forever, rocking together across time and space, our love bridging the gap in the universe.

Happy 10 Years!

2009-08-27T22:14:00.010-05:00

I just want to say, Happy 10 years to my wonderful husband, Mark! It has been 10 years since the day we met under a tree on our college campus the weekend before classes started.
We hit it off from the start, and it has been an awesome adventure ever since! We got to know each other, became best friends, became more than friends, got engaged, had our beautiful wedding...(and all of that in just 11 months!) We have had so many wonderful times together, including God's gifts of all our babies, and we have also been through great heartache, but with Christ at the center of it all, our love can weather any storm. I love you so much, and thank God for bringing the man of my dreams into my life 10 years ago when I was a college girl! You are my one and only, today more than ever! (This is a scan from a photo taken on one of our first dates in February of 2000.)

We had a fun time celebrating on Tuesday by walking around our college campus. The tree we met under has been torn down, and the area transformed, but it is still a beautiful spot to sit and talk. We also went to the diner near campus for burgers, and shared a hot fundge milk-shake. (We didn't actually get a picture, but I'm posting this one from July when we celebrated out 9th anniversary.) It was a fun time of looking back on our early care-free days together as students, and the path God has led us on since then.

A Visit to Remember

2009-08-25T00:00:00.010-05:00

Here is a little bit more about the week of Eliana's due-date:

On Saturday, August 15th, we continued commemorating Eliana's week by going to her grave. She is buried an hour away from our home, so we haven't gotten to go as often as we would like. I am so glad about our choice for her burial, though. My Dad died when I was six, and we had her buried with him. A piece of my heart is in heaven with both of these two people who I love so deeply, and long to be reunited with. I believe they are together in heaven, so nothing made more sense than for their bodies to be buried together on earth.

Right now we only have a small temporary marker provided by our funeral home. It will be a while before we can save up enough money to buy Eliana's marker, but one of the things we did that day was to meet in the office to discuss pricing and options. I really wished I could have had a marker there by her due-date, but I thought it would feel good to at least take a step in that direction.

While we were there, though, it just struck me how surreal the whole thing was. What were we doing here? Why was I standing in the middle of a graveyard with my husband and two little boys, when I was supposed to be in the hospital just getting to know the face of my new baby girl? It just didn't make sense that I was worrying over saving money to buy a piece of granite, when I should be blissfully unaware of the cares of the world while I watch my daughter have her first bath, and wrap her up in her soft pink blankets. At times it hits me in this way and I can't even cry, I just feel hazy, disoriented, and out of time and reality. After three months I expected to be past the denial part of this, but there are still many days where it is just hard to imagine that this has really happened to us. This isn't how it's supposed to be...

In spite of these thoughts, we still had a good time of remembrance as a family. After placing some flowers in my Dad's vase, we walked around and let our boys run. For the first time, I was actually struck by the beauty of the area. The grave is right underneath a tree that is native to our state. My father-in-law told me on the day of the burial that it is the "tree of heaven." They are very rare and delicate, just like Eliana.

This section of the cemetary is called the Garden of the Good Shepherd. Toward the back stands a statue of Jesus, holding a little baby lamb, with two bigger lambs standing at His side. Our two boys ran up to the statue and each sat on one of the bigger lambs, laughing and playing. My husband and I just gazed at them sitting there, tears filling our eyes, as we both thought of our three little lambs, one in Jesus' arms, and two who we pray will walk all their days on earth by His side. We held each other as he prayed, thanking God for the gift of our three little lambs, and asking Him to take care of each of them. We know He has them in the palm of His hand--all three, along with our sweet baby we lost in 2003, greatly loved, even though we knew for such a short time we were pregnant.

As they sat there, the boys broke out into boistrous renditions of Go Tell It On the Mountain, and Jesus Loves Me. We all sat there singing together, and could almost sense the saints of heaven, joining in one song of praise to Jesus.

Later that night I returned with my sister. We sat by Eliana's grave at sunset and she placed little pink roses one by one around the temporary marker as we talked and cried together. It started to sprinkle and get dark, but still we sat, remembering her, and speculating about heaven. While sad, it is so meaningful to catch a glimpse of someone else sharing in our heartache. It's a gift to know how much my sister loves Eliana and misses her, and to see how deeply she too has been touched by her life. While spending the day at the cemetary was the last way I would have chosen to spend August 15th of this year, it turned out to be a day we can always look back on, of remembering and loving our baby girl, and thanking God for her.

Letter to my Butterfly

2009-08-14T19:47:00.006-05:00

I decided today was the perfect day to post this letter that I wrote to Eliana, exactly three months ago, on the evening before her funeral. That day was the last time I held her in my arms, and today is supposed to be the day I would hold her for the first time. The original copy of this letter is placed underneath her in her casket.

Dear Eliana,

I got to see you today. Tomorrow will be the last time until we see you in heaven. You looked so beautiful in your cute white dress with the pink, your long eyelashes, and all your dark hair. You are perfect, created in the image of God and taken to be with Him so early. You would be such a beautiful little girl someday, with little pig-tails in your hair and a ballerina tutu to wear when dancing in the sunshine. Now you're dancing in heaven. I wish I could hear you laugh and hear you sing, but now you sing with the angels. I wish I could hold you in my arms, look into your eyes, and tell you how very much I love you. But somehow, Jesus loves you even more.

I would have held you, rocked you, fed you, dressed you, and sung you lullabies every day. I would have poured my life into you, Eliana. I would give you my life now if I could. Your heart was beating so close to mine for so long, I wonder how mine can go on without you. Only because the same One who made you and cradles you cradles me too. How else could I get through without knowing that the same Jesus who took you to be with Him, loves you, and loves me with a greater intensity than a mother's love for her baby. In the same way that I would give my life for you, He did give His life for me and for you so that we could be with Him and be together one day.

The next time I see you, I don't know what it will be like. I know you won't be my baby girl like you would be on earth, but I hope you will know that I love you in a very deep and special way. I hope we will get to dance and make music, and worship together with full knowledge of the bond we share. I know I have to say goodbye, but I look forward to the day we will really meet. Until then, I will always love you, and you will always be a part of me and of our family.

All my love and hugs and kisses,

Mommy

Heaven is the Face of My Little Girl

2009-08-14T15:38:00.004-05:00

Today is the day our baby girl was due to come into this world, the day we would be kissing her, holding her, loving her, looking into her eyes for the first time. One of the things Mark regretted was not getting to see her eyes. Eyes are a window to the soul, and when each of our boys was born, a special bond was cemented for eternity as soon as they looked into their daddy’s eyes. Today all we can do is guess at what that moment would have been like, and long for the day we will gaze on Eliana for the first time, eye to eye, face to face, soul to soul.

Last night Mark and I went to an incredible concert with Jeremy Camp and Steven Curtis Chapman. It was so meaningful to hear SCC open up about the loss of his daughter Maria. It is heart-breaking, but healing at the same time when you hear someone speak out loud the same pain you feel within your own heart. He sang the new single “Heaven is the Face" from his album Beauty Will Rise that comes out this November. This song is so beautiful, and captures perfectly what I am feeling today. Here is a live performance on You Tube: www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_q3LGYR3oM

Heaven is the Face

Heaven is the face of a little girl
With dark brown eyes
That disappear when she smiles.
Heaven is the place
Where she calls my name
Says, “Daddy please come play with me for awhile.”

Chorus:

God, I know, it’s all of this and so much more,
But God, You know, that this is what I’m aching for.
God, you know, I just can’t see beyond the door.
So right now...

Heaven is the sound of her breathing deep,
Lying on my chest, falling fast asleep while I sing.
And Heaven is the weight of her in my arms,
Being there to keep her safe from harm while she dreams

And God, I know, it’s all of this and so much more,
But God, You know, that this is what I’m longing for
God, you know, I just can’t see beyond the door.

Bridge:

But in my mind’s eye I can see a place
Where Your glory fills every empty space.
All the cancer is gone,
Every mouth is fed,
And there’s no one left in the orphans’ bed.
Every lonely heart finds their one true love,
And there’s no more goodbye,
And no more not enough,
And there’s no more enemy (no more).

Heaven is a sweet, maple syrup kiss
And a thousand other little things I miss with her gone.
Heaven is the place where she takes my hand
And leads me to You,
And we both run into Your arms.

Oh God, I know, it’s so much more than I can dream.
It’s far beyond anything I can conceive.
So God, You know, I’m trusting You until I see
Heaven in the face of my little girl,
Heaven in the face of my little girl.

Eliana, we are longing for the day.

Bittersweet Blankets

2009-08-12T23:07:00.007-05:00

It seems this whole summer has been building in momentum toward this one week in August, the week Eliana would have been born. Not just this summer, of course, but the last nine months. It’s so strange how the events of May 9th didn’t change this feeling that something was building, we were preparing for something, something big and life-altering...and it took on a shape I would never have expected.

Since losing Eliana I have felt all the love and energy that a mom showers on her new baby, but it was without a recipient. When I got in touch with Birthright in our city, it was like a healing balm to my heart, to talk with the director and come up with a way to use my passion to help unborn babies and their mother’s in a loving, tangible way.

Birthright is an organization who provides free pregnancy tests and counseling to women facing an unplanned pregnancy. They educate women on the facts about the baby growing inside of them, and offer them lots of love and encouragement. At the end of their visit, they give pregnant women the first gift for their baby. It is a bundle containing a blanket, onesie, and stuffed animal. In many cases, this helps the mom to begin a bond with her baby. She can feel the soft blanket and imagine the softness of her baby’s skin, look at the onesie, and think of the baby growing big enough to dress in it, and imagine playing with her child with the stuffed animal. There are many success stories of women who come into Birthright strongly considering an abortion, who decide either to keep the baby, or have them adopted.

I decided to host a shower for Birthright through our church. I spent the next month picking out adorable fleece fabric, and enlisting the help of lots of awesome friends at church to pick out onesies and stuffed animals and cut fabric. One girl who is a teacher had the cool idea of adding in a baby board book as an extra touch so we did that too. Another friend made special invitations to the event and tags to put on our bundles that say we are praying. Many ladies brought other special items like diapers, wipes, and other newborn layette items to donate, and others contributed financially.

Jayden was so excited about all the ducky's when I brought the fleece home.

Here are all 40 blankets ready to be finished

Last night was when it all came so beautifully together. We all gathered and had a prayer time for Birthright, tied the fleece blankets, and made all the bundles. It was so great to see all the women there united in the cause, working together with a common purpose to honor the lives of unborn babies, and knowing it was all born out of my love for Eliana and all she brought into our lives.

Of course the whole thing was bittersweet. Leading up to the shower I spent evenings cutting fleece for the blankets, praying over the babies and mommy’s who would receive them, while crying for Eliana. I long to be spending this week giving birth to her, getting to know her, and showering her with love, but I am so thankful that God gave me a vision for something else I could do with that love. It was so much fun to see how he worked for this to come together, and I know as we continue to pray for the recipients of our bundles, even though we don’t know who they will be, He will use those prayers on an individual basis to work His plan in their lives.

Today I got to deliver all of our donations to Birthright, and it was so amazing to get to meet Judy, the director face to face. We had several great conversations over the phone and shared lots of stories together. She is a dear woman who has such an amazing heart for God and such a passion for the ministry at Birthright. It is a joy just to know her, and be a part of this work, and it is just one more awesome thing that has come about because of Eliana.

Here I am at Birthright with Judy, the shelf behind us is where they will store all the blanket bundles we brought in.

How beautiful it is to see the mysterious way that God works to bring about His plan for our lives. We planned to hold our baby, to breath in the smell of her hair, and savor the softness of her skin. To go girl-crazy with pink bows, hearts, and flowers, to wrap her up in soft blankets and cuddle her as she sleeps…but that wasn’t to be. Instead we gathered an abundance of fleece blankets, onsies, newborn hats, and stuffed animals in gender neautral colors, to wait for babies who we will never see, but who we love and pray for. I am so blessed by the way we have been able to honor Eliana’s life this week, and so excited as I think of how God can use this in the lives of pregnant women, and even to save the lives of precious babies!

There has been so much momentum leading up to this week...and now here we are, our arms so empty but our hearts somehow full. Our eyes still tearful, but our hearts hopeful. Pain in what has passed, but peace for what lies ahead…peace like a river. There are still lots of tears, there is sadness daily, but hope seeps in slowly, waiting to well up within us and spill over.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed...Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:7-9, 16-18

Missing You

2009-08-08T23:43:00.002-05:00

I can’t believe it has been three months since we were in the hospital waiting to see you for the first time, Eliana, and to tell you good bye. I miss you so much tonight, baby girl, but I know you are having so much fun in heaven. I’m sure Grandpa is giving you lots of love and hugs for me. I can't even imagine the beauty you are surrounded with, and how amazing it is to be in God's presence. I still find it hard to comprehend that you are already there.

If you were still here, your birthday would be coming up any day now! I wish so much that I was still getting ready to welcome you into this world instead of thinking of you in the next. My heart aches to hold you in my arms, even if only for an hour. Our hearts were once beating together, and I know they are connected forever. I love you more than words can say.
Love,
Mommy

Walking With You: Sibling Grief

2009-08-06T15:04:00.006-05:00

Walking With You was created to help support those who have lost a child. Together we share our stories, helpful information, scriptures, encouraging words, prayer requests, and more. Thank you to those of you who have joined us for the past few weeks...for courageously sharing your stories. If you haven't joined us yet, and would like to, you are more than welcome.

This week for walking with you, the subject is the effect that losing our baby has had on our children. This is something I have thought about blogging about, and just haven’t been able to do it yet, so this is an encouragement to go ahead and discuss this subject.

My daughter Eliana has two older brothers, Caedmon, who is 4, and Jayden, who is 2. As mothers, none of us want to see our children in pain. We all long to protect them and shield them from the hardest things in life for as long as we can. At the same time, as hard as it is, we all know that it is through these difficult times that God can mold them into the little people he wants them to become. Compassion and empathy are traits that are deeply significant to me, and I have often prayed and hoped that my children would learn to show them at an early age. Perhaps it is through this loss that God will answer those prayers.

Caedmon had begun praying for a baby before we became pregnant, and when we told him the news, his face lit up like the sun and he said “Is it really true, Daddy?!” He was so delighted and excited. We explained to him that a lot of time would pass before the baby would be born, but it would be here before he would turn 5 in September. He showed love and concern throughout the pregnancy. His aunt had experienced two miscarriages and he was somewhat aware of this, so he did have an inclination that babies don’t always survive.

We let Caedmon help in sharing the news with our family, and we began talking about it with our 2-year-old son Jayden. He didn’t understand quite as well, and since we had our house on the market a lot of our books were in storage, including the children’s books about having a new baby. I hadn’t gotten to get them out yet before we found out Eliana was no longer living, but I wish I had had the chance to read through those with him.

Caedmon would talk to Eliana every night and hug and kiss my tummy good-night. Jayden would sometimes do this too. Caedmon also often talked about the things he would do with his new sister as we remembered together about what it was like when Jayden was a baby.

The day that we found out the bad news, I was thankful that the boys were not with me at the Drs. office, for the first time in all our appointments. After we made the decision to have labor induced that day, we came home to pack and to talk to our boys. Besides the actual labor and birth, that was the hardest things I have ever had to do. My husband did most of the talking, both of us crying, and yet I was also still in total shock. Caedmon immediately began to cry inconsolably as we tried to explain to him that she was already in heaven with Jesus, happy and complete. As Caedmon cried, Jayden was still just happy we had gotten home and was playing with his plastic dinosaur. Mark continued holding and talking with Caedmon, while I went to go call my mom.

When I left the room I knew that Jayden did understand some, because he followed me into the bedroom, climbed up beside me on the bed, and gave me a hug. He looked at me with the sweetest, concerned expression as I was calling my mom and telling her what had happened.

My mother-in-law had come over to take the boys for us, so she began talking more with Caedmon as Mark and I numbly packed our things for the hospital. He eventually calmed down with his Grandma. We were surprised by the depth of some of the things he said through his tears. We had a pet rabbit who had died a year previously named Velvet. He had cried hard that day as well, and remembered that feeling and experience, saying “First Velvet, and now my Baby Sister!” He also said that he wanted to die too so that he could go to heaven to be with her. That just broke my heart.

During our time in the hospital leading up to the delivery, I was very concerned about our boys, and how much I should let them be involved in things after she came. We spoke with our nurse and looked at some reading material, and thought and prayed about it. Our decision was to have them come to the hospital and see their baby sister, and to fully experience the funeral and burial.

I am so glad we chose to do this. I was afraid the way that Eliana looked would be upsetting to them, but they didn’t even seem to notice that she looked different, or show any signs of fear. She was perfectly formed, but her skin was dark with some bruising and tearing, and when they saw her the next morning, there were other things about her appearance that were beginning to change. Still, they touched her hair and looked at her, Caedmon asked some questions about her. Jayden just looked at her curiously and seemed a little confused, but not afraid. I don’t think seeing her caused them any trauma, and was a good experience. The only thing I regret is not having Caedmon hold her. He didn’t ask, but later cried because he had never gotten to hold his baby sister.

To help the boys say good bye, we had them each draw a picture for her that they placed under her in the casket. We called it her little bed, and they helped to “tuck her in” when it was time to close it before the burial. Caedmon also placed in her casket a gift he had made for her out of beads, and a plastic monarch butterfly. In an earlier post I mentioned that when we were reading a book about heaven, it asked to think about the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, and Caedmon said “a monarch butterfly.” This was so cool because I had already been thinking about butterflies and it was like God was confirming that symbol for Eliana.

At the hospital, Caedmon had also taken his own pictures of Eliana on his digital camera. In the car on the way home from the burial, he asked for his camera and looked at her pictures until he fell asleep. For many nights afterwards, he would cry, and ask for his camera when he went to bed. We could hear him in his room saying “I love you” to his baby sister, and giving a kiss to her on his camera, hoping it would reach all the way up to heaven.

Each night he would be very sad whenever he told me good night, because he used to be telling Eliana goodnight in my tummy, and it was a big reminder that she wasn’t here anymore. I still let him kiss my tummy and say I love you if he needed to.

One thing that has been difficult is the huge baby boom that is going on in our circle. Many of my friends in my mom’s group at church, my two sisters-in-law, two of my cousins, my two high school friends, and apparently a large portion of our city are all pregnant, or have now had their babies. I had no idea my son was as keenly aware of this as I am, until one day he had been acting up and in general having a bad day, and all of a sudden he just said, “Babies, babies, babies. There’s babies everywhere; at the splash park, at the mall…I see them all the time!” I was so surprised that he was feeling exactly the same way as I was! We don’t always realize how grown up our little one’s thoughts really are. We were able to talk about how we miss our baby when we see others, but we are also so happy about all the healthy babies that are born and it helps us to remember that God has given two healthy babies to our family already, and we can pray for Him to bring us another one someday. I have truly felt this myself, as each of my friends has their baby, I experience a sense of relief, and a little bit of healing, to see that God is still the miracle worker and I am truly happy for these other special women while at the same time missing my little girl tremendously. I really feel this perspective is helping Caedmon to cope as well.

We had read that at Caedmon’s age, he might not understand the permanency of death, but for the most part, he seemed to get that. I think it helped that we had already talked a lot about the promise of heaven when we die as believers, and he had a good understanding and assurance of that. We explained to him that God shows special grace to little babies who never had the chance to believe in him, and takes them straight to heaven too. He was sad that he couldn’t see her, but glad that she was in heaven and he would see her again someday. (In November of last year he had placed his trust in Jesus.) If anyone would like to read a great book that discusses the assurance of heaven for babies, I highly recommend Safe in the Arms of God by John MacArthur. This is written for adults, but if you know why you believe what you do, it is easier to explain it to your children.

There was only one time when it seemed for a moment that Caedmon didn’t understand. We’ve had our house on the market for 6 months, and were hoping to have moved into a bigger house before Eliana would be born in August. This week we went to an open house. After we left, we were saying how we like that house, but it didn’t have as many bedrooms as we wanted. Caedmon said “Well, me and Jayden and Eliana can all go in one room together!” I was so surprised, and talked with him again about Eliana going to heaven, and he again seemed to understand. I later realized that we haven’t been to very many open houses afterwards. Before she died, we had been going every week, and saying “This room could be for Mommy and Daddy, this room could be for Caedmon and Jayden, this room could be for Baby Sister…” His mind had automatically reverted back to that time before, when we were all so happy, trying to make room for a new little bird in our nest.

Some other things with Caedmon are, he often draws pictures or makes sticker pages that include Eliana, or he says they are for her. Sometimes he makes something and says “This is a picture of Eliana, just for you Mommy.” He knows how much I miss her and doesn’t want me to be sad. Another thing he has been doing lately is talking in baby talk, I think he thinks it somehow makes him more lovable since we miss our baby and love her so much. I have been trying not to make too big of a deal of it, but remind him that we love him so much because he’s our big boy and has been learning and doing so many big new things.

Jayden, for the most part, has seemed to sail through and do okay. He has shown love and sensitivity toward me, and has seemed a little sad and quiet at times. He has also been much more attached to me since I came home from the hospital. Occasionally he still says “baby in mommy’s tummy?” and I have to remind him that his baby sister isn’t in there anymore, because she went to heaven to be with Jesus. I feel so sad that he doesn’t get to be a big brother yet.

I was so looking forward to seeing each of my boys fall in love with their baby sister. I just knew that she would teach them love in a new and special way and bring out the tenderness of their hearts. Although it isn’t in the way I had expected, I really believe she has done just that, and will continue to be a source of love in their lives as they grow. It is in this way that God is beginning to answer my prayers for my boys, that they would have tender, loving hearts and will learn how to show compassion to others in a meaningful way.

Walking With You: Naming our Babies

2009-07-17T00:01:00.014-05:00

I am excited to be joining Walking with You, and feel like I am taking the lazy way out for this first one, because I am going to copy and paste my post from last month on the subject. This just seems like a perfect time for me to join in because Eliana's name is so precious to me, and has been a comfort, and part of God's amazing grace and all-surpassing peace along this journey. Here is that story:

It had only been two weeks when I began to bleed, and soon miscarried our first child before we had even heard a heartbeat. This was a very difficult loss for us. We continued to trust God with our lives, but also had worries. We were given no explanation of what went wrong, what if it was something likely to repeat in future pregnancies? What if we were never able to have a healthy baby?

I felt like I was already a mother, from the moment I found out we had conceived. Now what was I going to do, finish out the year of college, and then get a job? Or would we change our plans entirely and try for another baby? As it turned out, we didn’t have to make that decision. On my birthday, January 10th, 2004 I made a wish, to be pregnant within the year. I soon found out that I already was! God had answered our prayer and our hearts cry before we had really begun to ask him.

Soon after finding out, I also began to have symptoms of a threatened miscarriage. I was prescribed a progesterone supplement in hopes of preventing another loss. I continued to have spotting until week 9 of the pregnancy. Throughout this time I was very fearful, and in constant prayer that God would allow me to carry this baby to term and have a healthy outcome. It was during this time that I came across the name Eliana through an on-line namebook. The meaning is “My God has answered” with the spiritual connotation “fulfilled promised.” The name was beautiful, and as soon as I read the meaning, the words brought an immediate sense of comfort, peace, and encouragement from God that I could trust Him to answer our prayers and fulfill His promises. I shared it with Mark and we fell in love with the name, and added it to a list we were keeping of names for boys and girls. We chose to be surprised about the gender, and I later gave birth to our first son in September. He was healthy and perfect and everything we had dreamed of. An answer to prayer and a fulfilled promise.

Over two years later we were expecting our second child. During the early months, we again thought of Eliana for a girl’s name, but found out we were having a boy. We had a completely routine, healthy pregnancy and gave birth to our second son in January of 2007. He was another miracle from God, whose name means “God has heard” and “Seeker of the Truth.”
It wasn’t long before I began praying about our third baby, that God would lead in the timing of the next pregnancy and bring us a healthy baby according to his will. I have always felt that ultimately gender is a non-issue, because just to hold your healthy baby in your arms is such a miracle and a gift. This time, however, I began adding in short silent prayers for a baby girl. I didn’t pray it very often, and rarely mentioned it, but I had a deep desire within my heart that the next baby would be a girl…and God Answered.
Once we found out she was a girl, we thought again of the name Eliana Grace, of the answered prayer of a healthy baby girl, and the “fulfilled promise” of new life. We didn’t know all the other meanings it would take on. We now think of God’s promise of eternal life for those who trust in Him, the fulfilled promise that Eliana is now safely cradled in the arms of Jesus, and the future promise that we will join her in His presence someday, free of all suffering, sadness, and pain. We also think of His promises to bear our sorrows, comfort us, and give us peace.

In the midst of this deep sadness, He has already answered the cries of our hearts by granting us peace like a river, Grace upon Grace, and the fulfilled promise of His presence, His comfort, and His Love beyond measure. The name Grace means "God's Grace." We cling to the promise that God will not give us more than we can handle, and He will provide us with the Grace to withstand whatever comes our way. We don't know why He chose to answer our prayers in this way, but as we continue to wade through these dark waters, we know that we can rest in His arms, just as we know Eliana is right now.

I believe God gave me her name years before her life began, because he knew what the future would hold, and He wanted to comfort me by helping me cling to the truth that He does fulfill His promises. Now I understand this better than ever before. I have experienced first hand the reality that He will never leave us or forsake us.

When I first found out I would have to deliver Eliana without getting to hear her cry, besides being devistated, I was so scared. I'm sure many can relate to these feelings of not having the emotional strength to even face what was going to happen. I couldn't even imagine myself actually giving birth and seeing my lifeless child, and I wished that somehow I could just dissapear without having to bear it.

As time passed and the moment drew near, it was beautiful beyond words the way that God stepped in, and filled me with His Holy Spirit. He says I can do all things through His strength, and he literally poured His supernatural strength into my body and spirit that night. He promises peace beyond understanding, and it was the most inexplicable, deep feeling of complete peace that I have ever felt. Satan would have us doubt God in experiences like this, but instead He has made Himself more real to me than ever before. He is so good, so pure, so holy, so loving, and when we cannot stand, He literally carries us; mind, body, and spirit.

Although we had chosen the name Eliana years before, during this pregnancy we hadn't completely settled on it yet. When it came time to decide her name, my husband and I both looked at each other and knew, her name is Eliana Grace. God has answered, with His Grace.

Held

2009-07-09T23:33:00.007-05:00

It was two months ago yesterday that we learned that Eliana would be born still. Two months ago today, just three minutes before Mother’s Day, we held her.

I first began hearing the song Held long before I understood it firsthand. In fact, throughout my pregnancy with Eliana, it came on the radio so many times when I was in the car. I always listened intently, and would get tears in my eyes imagining what it would be like to lose a child. Even when I sat in the waiting room before that last ultrasound, the words came into my mind.

After losing Eliana, almost every time I play the radio while driving, I hear at least some part of this song. Today, I stopped to listen to it when it came on just as I pulled into a store parking lot.

Held
Performed by Natalie Grant Lyrics by Christa Wells

Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we'd be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
We're asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it's unfair

[Chorus]
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held

This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow

[Chorus]
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held

[Bridge]
If hope is born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior

[Chorus]
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held
We'd be held
This is what it means to be held.....

Two months ago we were in the hospital waiting to deliver Eliana, waiting to see her face for the first time, waiting to count her fingers and toes, to compare her tiny features to us and her brothers. Two months ago, we held her. But not in the way we had wished: crying and kicking, alert and surprised by new sensations...alive. She was beautiful and perfectly formed, but so tiny, so still, so silent.

God didn’t promise to spare us from nightmares, but He did promise to carry us through them.

Today, all I want is to hold my baby girl, but instead, I am the one being held.

Psalm 68:19-20 (New Living Translation)
Praise the Lord; praise God our savior! For each day he carries us in his arms.
Our God is a God who saves! The Sovereign Lord rescues us from death.

Butterfly Garden

2009-06-16T21:26:00.011-05:00

Last weekend our family went to visit Reiman Gardens. The reason for the trip was, they were hosting a temporary dinosaur display, and our two little boys couldn’t survive without seeing the velociraptors, giant T-Rex skull, and other prehistoric creatures that could be discovered throughout the 14 acres of beautiful varieties of plants. Our family of four, along with my husband’s sister, parents, and grandma, all drove over and toured the grounds. The gardens were beautiful, and of course the dinosaurs were as exciting as we expected, as well as the pond full of tadpoles, but the highlight was definitely the 2,500 square foot butterfly garden.

Jayden was asleep when we arrived at the gardens, so Mark decided to carry him until he woke up on his own. This wasn’t until we were already inside the butterfly garden. He awoke to see hundreds of butterflies of all varieties fluttering about him, as if in a dream. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the reality, and then a huge smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up in amazement. Could this be real? Needless to say he was delighted to have awoken in this brand new world of color and magnificence. Soon he wanted to get down, and began to explore, running from one place to the next, admiring the beauty.

Caedmon was also delighted by the butterflies. He exclaimed over each variety, and paused quietly, holding perfectly still to peer closely at the detail. He loved being inside the garden, but I think his highlight was the butterfly emergence cases. There were three cases with cocoons and chrysalis' in various stages hanging from the top. Some were completely closed, in others the butterfly was just beginning to break out. Some butterflies had just emerged and were hanging waiting for their wings to dry out. A few were ready to fly, anticipating their release into the garden. He watched it with great interest both when we arrived, and before we left. When it was time to go home, it was so hard to tear him away to get in the car. He was convinced one particular butterfly he had been watching would fully emerge if he stood there long enough. It probably would have if they had let us stay past closing time.

There was something that caught my eye. One chrysalis had detached, and lay on the floor of the case, and not far from it was a butterfly, lying motionless, with wings still folded over itself. My sister-in-law, a “bug expert” as Caedmon calls her, explained that without being able to hang long enough, the butterfly’s wings weren’t able to fill with blood and expand as is necessary for flight. Because of a natural accident, her life was cut short before it had even begun. I began to think of our Eliana, so safe and happy in the cocoon of my womb, developing so perfectly waiting for the day when she would emerge into the light of this world, and fly into my arms. Suddenly one day, like a chrysalis falling, her blood and nutrient supply was cut off by two loops and a knot, and her life was cut short. Before she could even spread her wings, or take a breath. Before she could look into her daddy’s eyes, or hear her brothers laughing. Before she could ever feel her skin next to mine and hear me say “I love you.” Looking at that poor fallen butterfly was enough to make you weep.

Even as I thought of her, and pictured her this way, another picture came back to me. It was Jayden; opening his eyes to a new world, then flitting from one butterfly to the next, laughing, playing, reaching out to touch. That is the tiniest glimpse of what it must have been like for our daughter, to awaken for the first time to heaven in all its splendor. That is the type of butterfly she is, not one who has been cut off, whose wings have never spread. She is the butterfly I saw when I first entered the garden. The vibrant green and black one whose wings were almost constantly in motion. That was the one who soared the highest, as far as she could fly, and fluttered about exploring and enjoying everything in her environment. She is my baby who learned how to fly, and she never stopped soaring until she met Jesus. Now she is flying freely with wings outstretched in a limitless garden full of flowers we can only attempt to imagine, and drinking the sweetest nectar.

After Eliana died we read a book to Caedmon about heaven. It said “imagine the most beautiful thing you have ever seen,” and he said “a monarch butterfly.” Last fall he brought home a caterpillar in a jar from his grandma’s house, and we got to watch it make a chrysalis, and eventually emerge as a monarch butterfly. When it was time to let it go, he was so happy that it didn’t fly off right away. It actually landed on him and lingered with him for a while, riding in and out of the house, sitting on his shoulder, his head, his shoe. When it finally flew away he came back in the house crying, but knowing it was necessary to let it go, and happy for the moments they had shared. So true of our baby butterfly, we had her long enough to fall in love with her, and even though we cry, we wouldn’t change a thing.

Sacrifice

2009-06-08T23:07:00.001-05:00

One month ago today, it started out like any other day. A busy morning having breakfast with the boys, doing a devotion and a craft with them (and believe me I don’t get this accomplished every day, but happened to this particular morning), finding something suitable to wear to my Drs. appointment all the while noting that I had a record weight gain that month, and no doubt our baby girl was growing as rapidly as I was. Unimaginable that the day would end the way it did, waiting in the hospital for my mind, soul, and body to get the message that it was time to let go…

I think of Abraham waking up on a day like any other, and God says to him “Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” Keep in mind, this is the son that Abraham and his wife Sarah have spent a lifetime praying and waiting for, the one whose name means laughter, because they couldn’t believe he was really here after Abraham’s 100th birthday! And finally, God had answered their prayers and fulfilled the promise he had given to Abraham to make him the father of many nations through Sarah’s son.

Imagine what might have gone through Abraham’s mind when he heard what God was asking of him that day, to sacrifice the very one whom God had promised would be used to establish an everlasting covenant. “How could a loving God require this?” “How, then, can I expect you to fulfill the promise you made to me, God?” But what is his reaction? He saddles his donkey, gathers his son and some wood, and begins the journey to Mount Moriah. Imagine him building the altar with his own hands, all the while his son looks around and asks “Daddy, where is the lamb for the sacrifice?” Holding back his anguish Abraham answers “Son, God will provide the sacrifice.” With shaking hands he gently takes hold of his only son, dearly loved, and binds him with rope. As Abraham lays him on top of the wood, Isaac looks up at him, eyes wide with innocence.

It isn’t until Abraham lifts the knife to slay him that Isaac’s eyes show any fear. It is only then, at the last moment, that God finaly speaks “Do not lay your hand on the lad, or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me…blessing I will bless you, and multiplying I will multiply your descendents as the stars of the heaven and as the sand which is on the seashore…in your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed, because you have obeyed my voice.”

Oh Lord, how can I have that strength? You ask me to give you my only daughter, and it is with everything in me that I try to cling to her. My body refuses to let her go for 19 hours, I hold her and take many more days to finally say good-bye when her body is buried in the ground, and still the long good-bye continues as my heart wraps around her forever…

And then I think of You. You sent your only begotten Son, deeply loved, into the world as a helpless baby, knowing full well the anguish He would experience during His life on earth. You oversee the planting and growth of a little seed, that throughout His life grows into a sturdy tree. You watch as He pours love out on the people You have created, and we turn our backs on Him. He pleads, with innocent eyes, “Oh My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will.”

You see Him seized, accused, beaten and tortured, with the power to rescue Him, and still you hold back. The tree You created is fashioned into a wooden cross, heavy with the weight of all the sin and injustice of the whole world, and You watch Him bear it on His bloody back. How Your heart must be aching and broken for Him, but You even take it another step further. As He hangs on that tree, You turn Your face away, and pour out on Him the crushing death-blow of all Your wrath for the sin of mankind, casting on Him in His innocence the penalty that we deserve. In His anguish He cries out “My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?” It is only then, after the fullness of the penalty has been paid that You finally withdraw Your hand, and He is able to say “It is Finished.”

And You whisper into my heart, “I know…”

But it hurts too much to let her go… “I know,”

The pain is too great to bear... “I know.”

Oh God, you know so much greater sorrow than I can comprehend. Your heart is breaking with me as you think of how much a parent loves a child and the agony of being separated, how the thought of them experiencing any pain is too much to endure. And yet you inflicted it on Christ with Your own hand. Why? “For God so loved the world, that He sent His only Son, that whosoever believes in Him, will not perish, but have everlasting life.” Wow, You did it for me. You sacrificed Your Son for the very ones who turned our backs on Him and nailed Him to the cross. To give us life. It is more than I can comprehend and more meaningful today than ever before.

Father I thank you for sending Your son, Jesus, I thank you that through that sacrifice You have victory over the grave. He rose again and is in heaven where He met Eliana at the gates. I thank you that because You sacrificed Your Son, I can lay my daughter in Your hands, and know that, like you did with Isaac, You will give her back to me. Not today, but a day when You will wipe away my tears and all suffering will cease, when I can fully love and know her in a way that isn’t possible on earth. The day when I will see Your face and experience the wonder that is You, and tell you thank you, in person.

God, I don’t think I would ever be able to lay her on the alter, built with my own hands, and lift the dagger, but please accept my open, outstretched palms, as tears stream down, and I promise to trust you. My heart will never stop loving her, but I give her to you because I know that Your love is immeasurably greater than my love for her, and Your love for me is the very same. I will follow You and trust You with my whole heart, longing for the day when my suffering will be rewarded with blessing, and my mourning will turn into dancing. You have already given me so much, and I am forever grateful.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.
1 Chronicles 16:34

When I said, "My foot is slipping," your love, O LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.
Psalm 94:18-19

May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you.
Psalm 33:22

For great is your love toward me; you have delivered me from the depths of the grave.
Psalm 86:13

Day By Day

2009-06-07T00:08:00.004-05:00

Some days are harder than others. Already, life continues to propel us forward with a breathless momentum instead of allowing us to stay rooted in the immediate sadness. Somehow, summer is in full swing. Our oldest son has started soccer, and we have been keeping a full schedule of play-dates, evening Bible studies and meetings, and fellowship with friends. I can’t believe there are days so full of activity that it isn’t until all is quiet that I begin to really think about Eliana. She is always in my mind and heart, even when I am going at full speed, but it is surprising how quickly I am assimilating back into the routine.

There are many days, however, when it seems like it all just happened yesterday, like I could still wake up and realize it has just been a bad dream. In many ways the true reality of the situation is still sinking in. Somehow, even after saying hello and good-bye at the hospital, and continuing the farewell through our memorial service and commital, it continues to dawn on me anew. A bin of sweet baby girl clothes still sits in my bedroom, some purchased the day before we learned of her death. Do I really have to put them away? When I walk past the children’s department of a clothing store, I still feel pulled to all those tiny pink and lavender things that I might buy for her…if only. At first I would drink a cold drink and expect to feel her squirming and kicking away, but that has stopped now. Little by little I realize, good bye takes much longer than anticipated.

Also, as more days go by, I start to focus less on the experience of her birth and subsequent farewell, and more on the loss of the hopes and dreams I had for her future. I not only have to grieve her passing, but also the memories that we will never make, the first cry, first words, first steps, first day of school, first love…a lifetime full of memories that will never be. And so, our sadness is uncovered in layers, day by day.

Still, I have peace because though she will never experience a life on earth, she isn't robbed of any joy, she is in a place of unspeakable joy. I also am not robbed of joy, because I carried her in my womb for a little while, and will carry her in my heart forever. I also know that I can trust God to use this all for good in my life and in the lives of others. I take great delight and hope in the comfort I receive from God, and the future I know I have with Eliana in heaven. I can’t see her now, but I will see her then.

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.
Romans 8:18

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything... Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.
James 1:2-4, 12

Eliana's Name

2009-06-05T01:18:00.001-05:00

The story behind Eliana’s name, like the story of her life, goes back to a time well before she was born. It begins with our first pregnancy, in 2003. I was in my last year of college at Drake University earning a degree in Music Education and Flute Performance. It was the fall semester and I was doing my student teaching. Mark and I had been married for a little over three years, and were greatly looking forward to having children, but planned to wait until we were out of college. I began having those now familiar symptoms, and one day decided to take a pregnancy test. It confirmed what I had already suspected—I was pregnant!! It was the best surprise of my life, I could hardly believe it was happening. Finishing out the year of college was not a concern. I knew it would be harder, but I could do it. This is what I had looked forward to my whole life, since I was a little girl playing with dolls and helping with my mom’s day-care. When I told Mark he was so surprised, it sent his world spinning, but in the best way imaginable.

It had only been two weeks when I began to bleed, and soon miscarried our first child before we had even heard a heartbeat. This was a very difficult loss for us. We continued to trust God with our lives, but also had worries. We were given no explanation of what went wrong, what if it was something likely to repeat in future pregnancies? What if we were never able to have a healthy baby?

I felt like I was already a mother, from the moment I found out we had conceived. Now what was I going to do, finish out the year of college, and then get a job? Or would we change our plans entirely and try for another baby? As it turned out, we didn’t have to make that decision. On my birthday, January 10th, 2004 I made a wish, to be pregnant within the year. I soon found out that I already was! God had answered our prayer and our hearts cry before we had really begun to ask him.

Soon after finding out, I also began to have symptoms of a threatened miscarriage. I was prescribed a progesterone supplement in hopes of preventing another loss. I continued to have spotting until week 9 of the pregnancy. Throughout this time I was very fearful, and in constant prayer that God would allow me to carry this baby to term and have a healthy outcome. It was during this time that I came across the name Eliana through an on-line namebook. The meaning is “My God has answered” with the spiritual connotation “fulfilled promised.” The name was beautiful, and as soon as I read the meaning, the words brought an immediate sense of comfort, peace, and encouragement from God that I could trust Him to answer our prayers and fulfill His promises. I shared it with Mark and we fell in love with the name, and added it to a list we were keeping of names for boys and girls. We chose to be surprised about the gender, and I later gave birth to our first son in September. He was healthy and perfect and everything we had dreamed of. An answer to prayer and a fulfilled promise.

Over two years later we were expecting our second child. During the early months, we again thought of Eliana for a girl’s name, but found out we were having a boy. We had a completely routine, healthy pregnancy and gave birth to our second son in January of 2007. He was another miracle from God, whose name means “God has heard” and “Seeker of the Truth.”

It wasn’t long before I began praying about our third baby, that God would lead in the timing of the next pregnancy and bring us a healthy baby according to his will. I have always felt that ultimately gender is a non-issue, because just to hold your healthy baby in your arms is such a miracle and a gift. This time, however, I began adding in short silent prayers for a baby girl. I didn’t pray it very often, and rarely mentioned it, but I had a deep desire within my heart that the next baby would be a girl…and God Answered.

Once we found out she was a girl, we thought again of the name Eliana Grace, of the answered prayer of a healthy baby girl, and the “fulfilled promise” of new life. We didn’t know all the other meanings it would take on. We now think of God’s promise of eternal life for those who trust in Him, the fulfilled promise that Eliana is now safely cradled in the arms of Jesus, and the future promise that we will join her in His presence someday, free of all suffering, sadness, and pain. We also think of His promises to bear our sorrows, comfort us, and give us peace.

In the midst of this deep sadness, He has already answered the cries of our hearts by granting us peace like a river, Grace upon Grace, and the fulfilled promise of His presence, His comfort, and His Love beyond measure. The name Grace means "God's Grace." We cling to the promise that God will not give us more than we can handle, and He will provide us with the Grace to withstand whatever comes our way. We don't know why He chose to answer our prayers in this way, but as we continue to wade through these dark waters, we know that we can rest in His arms, just as we know Eliana is right now.

A woman after God's own heart?

2009-06-02T00:39:00.001-05:00

It has only been a little over three weeks since our little girl Eliana went to be with Jesus. There have been so many ups and downs, and so much sadness. But in the middle of our loss, we have continued to experience so much comfort and peace from God, in a way that we have never known before.

A few days after Eliana's birth, I opened my Bible to read, and without giving it a lot of thought went immediately to the beginning of Psalms. I had it in my head that when I met with my mom's group the week before, that was where we had decided to read together next. Immediately the verses began speaking poignently and directly to my heart and my situation, and I read through many chapters. I thought it was definitely the hand of God that we had decided to study that before even knowing about what would transpire. The funny thing is, I later realized that I didn't even read the right assignment, we were supposed to be reading Proverbs! Now I believe even more that God specifically directed me to those passages, knowing what I needed at this time, and wanting to speak directly to me.

David, the author of most of the Psalms, was a man who endured a lot in his life, including the death of his own infant son. Despite his hardships and struggles with sin, God showed him grace, and he was even known as “a man after God’s own heart.” Many of the Psalms were written during times of intense trials in David’s life, but he still found the strength to trust God and praise Him. Since Eliana's death, He has used these passages to life me up, letting me know that He hears my cries, and that I can trust Him. I hope that He can use my trials for good like He did for David, that I might be a woman after God’s own heart. I wanted to include some of what I have been reading and learning, and I hope it can encourage someone else like it has me!

“But You, O Lord, are a shield about me, My glory, the One who lifts my head. I was crying to the Lord with my voice, and He answered me from His holy mountain. I lay down and slept; I awoke, for the Lord sustains me, I will not be afraid…” Psalm 3: 3-6

Those words are such a beautiful comfort, like being wrapped in a blanket of peace. One thing I have been struggling with since saying goodbye to Eliana is lifting my head. I have two energetic pre-schoolers to take care of, who wake me up each morning full of life and needing me to make their day happen. Some days I don’t feel like getting out of bed, some days I don’t have the strength to tackle what the day might hold, some days I just want to pull the covers over my head, go back to sleep, and pretend these last weeks have all just been a bad dream. But they need me. How can I have the strength to lift my head? I cannot, but He will lift it for me, He will be my shield and my sustainer. He hears my cries and answers them with grace.

“Lift up the light of Your countenance upon us, Oh Lord! You have put gladness in my heart, more than when their grain and new wine abound, In peace I will both lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, make me to dwell in safety.” Psalm 4: 6-8

Not only have I been struggling to get out of bed, but I have been struggling with sleep. The days are so filled with tasks and being a Mommy of two, but always on my mind is my little Eliana. When everything is finally quiet, and I’m alone with my thoughts, my mind is a restless wanderer. I can’t seem to make peace with my thoughts, but here I read that I can lie down, and not only will God grant me that peace, but He will also put gladness in my heart, even more than when things were going well! How can that be? Only because of the One who can do the impossible.

“Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am pining away; Heal me, O Lord, for my bones are dismayed. And my soul is greatly dismayed; But You, O Lord—how long? Return, O Lord, rescue my soul; save me because of Your lovingkindness…I am weary with my sighing; every night I make my bed swim, I dissolve my couch with my tears. My eye has wasted away with grief…The Lord has heard the voice of my weeping. The Lord has heard my supplication, the Lord receives my prayer." Psalm 6:2-9 & Psalm 7:1”

Wow…that says it all. David knew what it was like to experience great heartache, and He also knew how to cry out to a loving God. What else can we do, when the sorrow is so deep, when we feel helpless and broken? When I call to Him, He hears, and He answers faithfully with comfort and peace. My only hope is in Him. I have hope not only because of the shelter He provides me in the midst of the storm, but because I know that Jesus Christ’s death on the cross has won the victory over sin and death, Eliana is with Jesus, and one day I will be reunited with her in heaven.

“The words of the Lord are pure words; as silver tried in a furnace on the earth, refined seven times. You, O Lord, will keep them.” Psalm 12: 6-7

Nothing compares to the truth of God’s promises. Eliana’s name means “fulfilled promise.” So many places in the Bible God promises to comfort us, to give us peace, to never leave us, here David reminds us, like silver, how strong, how pure and beautiful God’s words really are. Because of Eliana, I have already experienced the fulfillment of so many of God’s promises.

“How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart all the day?” Psalm 13:1&2 “But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness; my heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the Lord because He has dealt bountifully with me.” Psalm 13:5&6.

Sometimes it is impossible to understand God. He works in mysterious ways, far beyond our comprehension, but yet He promises to work all things together for our good. (Romans 8:28) There are times when He seems to forget us, to hide His face. Can we still trust in His love? Can we even rejoice, and sing praises to Him? Okay, maybe this idea sounds a little crazy. If God is really all powerful, then why didn’t He allow my baby girl to stay safe inside my body, to grow and develop, and be born crying and healthy? The truth is, I don’t know. Maybe because she will never have to cry, she was spared all the heart ache this world can hold, and ushered immediately into endless love and light. But then, why must I be left to cry without her? I do not have an answer, but I know that her life, and even her death, were no accident, God has a purpose and a plan even in this. He is loving, and He is good, and in that sweet someday I will understand. When I stand before Him and He wipes every tear from my eyes and I embrace my daughter in His presence. Then we will worship and praise Him together. That is why along with David, I can pray, I trust in Your love, I will rejoice in Your salvation, I will sing praise to You. I don’t understand, but I will trust You.

Eliana's Story

2009-05-30T12:12:00.002-05:00

Eliana’s story starts even before her life began. Psalm 139 reads “For you formed my inward parts, you wove me in my mother’s womb. I will give thanks for You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them.” Before He even made her, God knew her and loved her. He already had a purpose and plan for her, knowing when her life would begin, and when her earthly life would end and she would go to be with Him. We also thought of her long before she came to be. For at least a year I prayed for God’s perfect timing, and His perfect will for the birth of our next child, and I also prayed for a baby girl. Her name Eliana Grace was chosen in 2004 during our first pregnancy. God gave us two precious boys first, but even then my little girl was on my heart.

In early December 2008, we found out we were expecting, and couldn’t have been happier. We began busily making plans for her, renovating our house and putting it on the market and purchasing a van. On March 11 we had our ultrasound appointment at 17 weeks. It was so fun to see our baby wriggling around on the screen, and hear her heartbeat like a galloping horse. Mark and our two boys were in there with me. We all held our breath waiting for the big news, was our baby a boy or a girl? The technician told my oldest son “it’s a sister!” I was so overcome I had to ask her again, and she said she was 99.9% sure our precious baby was a girl. Those were the first tears of many I would shed for her. The room was filled with excitement, and even our two-year-old started saying “Girl, mommy! Girl, Mommy!”

I had been thrilled to have our two boys, but this time in particular, my heart’s deep desire was to have a little girl. I felt blessed beyond words. I said to my husband, “This is as good as it gets!” Both of us felt like we wouldn’t fully believe it until we held her in our arms. Now I could start making plans for her bedroom, and even though we had hand-me-downs coming from a niece and a friend, I had so much fun picking out lots of cute things for her at garage sales. The next 8+ weeks were filled with sharing the exciting news and loving our daughter. At 19 weeks I began feeling her move, and a few weeks later my husband was able to feel it too. We started talking to her and thinking even more about her. Each night my oldest son would hug and kiss me good-night, and then hug and kiss my tummy, saying good-night to his baby sister. He would always say one word referring to something he loves, and wanted her to love too, usually it was “dinosaurs.”

We didn’t know those were the only precious weeks we had to let her know how much we love her. Late Thursday night, May 7, I remarked to my husband that I hadn’t felt her move like she usually would while we watched TV. We both agreed it was probably fine and went to bed. Throughout the night I woke several times thinking she might kick for reassurance, but I still didn’t worry, and assumed she was probably just moving while I was sleeping. The next morning was my routine prenatal check-up. I went in feeling normal, dreading drinking the ultra-sweet drink for my glucose screen, and looking forward to hearing her heart racing away.

I quickly forced down the drink, and sat in the waiting room feeling sicker than I expected. When I was called back for my appointment I told the nurse practicioner right away that I hadn’t felt her move as much in the last day. She said not to worry, that at this early stage (25+ weeks) we wouldn’t do the non-stress test yet, and they would have me start doing fetal kick counts. I feebly replied “I thought the sugary drink would wake her up for sure!” With a reassuring smile she began to listen with the Doppler. I didn’t really start to get nervous until she kept listening and listening. Even then she smiled and said “I think your placenta might be in front, so I’m having a hard time hearing it through the placenta. We’ll just go have an ultrasound so they can check it out.”

I called Mark at work to let him know what was happening, and he had reassuring words. I was trying to be strong and not let myself think the worst, but my insides were in knots. I sat in the waiting room staring at the salt water fish tank, trying to quell the scenarios coming into my brain, and swallow the lump in my throat.

Luckily the wait wasn’t long. Once I lay down on the table, the technician took some measurements first. As my heart pounded, I was holding my breath again, this time waiting not to hear that my baby was a girl, but to hear if my baby girl was alive. After a minute that seemed like an eternity, she said, “I’m sorry to tell you this, but I can’t find a heart-beat.” At that point the floor dropped from under me and the world stopped spinning. I just said “No!” and covered my face with my hands, crying.

After that things unfolded in a relative blur. I phoned my husband at work with the bad news, and waited in agony for him to arrive. We listened to what the Doctor had to say and made the decision to go home and pack some things and talk to our boys, and then head to the hospital to begin the long labor induction process. We got to the hospital around 3 PM on Friday, and I gave birth to Eliana at 11:53 PM Saturday, May 9.

During the many hours waiting to give birth, God was preparing our hearts for what was to come. I had wanted it to be over with as quickly as possible, He knew better. I know looking back that the emotional state I was in early on would have made it very difficult to have a meaningful experience with Eliana after she was born. We had many hours to think, talk, pray, and just let it all sink in before seeing her face. We had special visits from family, pastors, and friends that helped to comfort us and come to terms with the difficult reality. Through it all, even while in shock and disbelief, I was filled with this overwhelming sense of peace, supernatural peace, the kind that is beyond understanding. Just hours after learning of her death, I wrote Eliana a letter, that said “I haven’t gotten to hold you, or see your face yet, but I know you are already surrounded by so much love, joy, laughter, and light, beyond our imagination…” It was that assurance that carried me through the long hours.

It was like a miracle, when it finally came time to deliver, I was actually looking forward to holding our baby girl, and seeing her face. When she came, it was a solemn event, but beautiful and sweet as well. We held her, and sang Amazing Grace and It Is Well. We looked at her tiny, long fingers, her cute little feet, all her perfectly formed features. The nurse gushed over all her dark hair, and took pictures of her. We just had this bittersweet time of loving her and loving God, while He ministered to our hearts. It was so sad to hold this baby girl that we had prayed for and waited so long for, lifeless and silent; yet still so precious to love this child, created by God, given to us for such a short time, and already in the presence of her Creator.

Eliana Grace is greatly missed, and dearly loved. She was wanted, loved, and prayed for before her life even began, and she will continue to be loved always. Her story doesn’t end here, her life is not just a blip in time, easily forgotten and full of sadness. She is an eternal being, fearfully and wonderfully made, created in the image of God and alive forever in His presence. She is a gift, bringing us so much love and joy during the 6 months I carried her, and continuing to bring love into our lives as we remember her, and think of her in heaven. We look forward to the day when we will see her again, and worship God together with her for all eternity.