4 Long, Lonely Months

This was written on September 25th, 2012...I like to write them and then ponder on them for awhile before actually posting,

Well, today marks 4 months since my sweet son was born…and died.  Four long… lonely… sleep deprived months.  We went to the cemetery again tonight and let 4 message-filled balloons go up to Heaven.  It was hard tonight, very hard.  I HATE that he is not here.  He should be here with me.  A few weeks ago in church, there was another brand new baby sitting straight across the aisle from our family.  Lexi asked John “is that so-and-so’s baby?”  He told her “yes” and she said “that’s not fair.  We didn’t get to keep our baby.”  She then put her head on John’s shoulder and cried a little bit.  I was on the other end of the pew and completely oblivious to what was going on.  John told me the story later.  I asked him what he said to her.  He said that he told her she was right.  It’s not fair.  I thought, wow, I never  would have said that to her.  I would have said something like “God has a plan for our family” or “I know it’s sad, but AJ is happy in Heaven.”  I never would have said “you’re right, it’s not fair.”  But you know what…they are right…It’s NOT fair…it’s not fair at all.  And frankly, it really sucks!

 

Today, on the way to drop Lexi off at preschool, she told me that she was going to ask Jesus if she could hold AJ one more time.  Sometimes it’s like she reads my mind.  Oh, how I wish I could hold him again.  I wish I could have looked into his eyes for one minute.  I wish I could have heard him make one little sound.  I wish I could have whispered in his ear and know that he heard me.  I have thought about that day over and over.  If only I could have had 5 minutes with him.  But I know if I would have had 5 minutes, I would have wanted an hour and a day or a month, maybe a year…whatever the amount of time…it wouldn’t have been enough.  A parent is not supposed to out-live their children.  

“The moment that a mother finds out that her child had died is one that she’ll never forget.  Time stood still, my heart stopped beating, and a big part of me died with him.  No words can describe the feeling of looking down at your baby and seeing a sleeping angel.  Even though you don’t want to remember that day, you never want to forget.  Every moment, every detail, every tear is etched in your heart forever…” Mary Nelda Williams.        

“I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices.  You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy” John 16:20.  I am patiently waiting for my joy.  

Kiss him once for me... 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9_Ctb6Zm1s

Take up thy Cross daily

Well, it has been exactly 16 weeks since we found that that our sweet little AJ didn’t have a heartbeat.  I’ll never forget that day… or that sleepless night.  The day we heard “I am very sorry, but there is no heartbeat.”  It was so hard to put all my thoughts together.  They gave us choices.  We could have checked into the hospital that minute to be induced.  I could come back the next day…or the next…or the next…or next week.  Part of me wanted to go to the hospital that instant and…part of me wanted to leave him in there forever so I would never have to separate from him.  But my priority at that minute was my other four children.  There was nothing I could do for AJ but I NEEDED to comfort my other kids and prepare them and answer any questions.   We picked them up from John’s parents, brought them home and sat them all down on the couch…the same couch we sat them on 6 months before to tell them we’d be adding a baby to the family.  I recorded their reaction when we told them I was pregnant.  They were so excited…yelling and jumping on the couch.  I haven’t been able to watch that video yet.  But I’ll never forget that Isaak asked me “what if something happens to the baby?”  I didn’t really know what to say or why he would even ask that?  I told him that I hoped nothing would  happen and that we need to pray for this baby.   Who would have guessed it would end like this?  We snuggled and cried with each of them.  Lexi had to run outside and tell Buddy (our dog).  She said he was sad too.  I don’t know how she could tell…he’s a Cocker Spaniel and always looks sad.  We spent the rest of the day and night cleaning.  Scrubbing floors and toilets.  Cleaning the fridge and vacuuming.  I didn’t know what else to do.  I remember being on my hands and knees in the backroom scrubbing the floor and thinking this is just so ridiculous.  My baby is dead and I’m scrubbing the floor.  I am a “grief cleaner.”  Whenever I am really sad, I scrub something.  I have cleaned in places I haven’t seen since we moved in, like behind the stove and under the fridge.  Weird,huh? 

Yesterday, I lied.   I was coming out of bible study and saw my Pastor.  He asked how I was and I said “okay” but the truth is I am not.  I had been fighting off tears all morning and the day before that, too.  I took a deep breath, turned the corner, put a smile on my face, picked up my daughter from the nursery, and had a conversation about the much needed rain we were getting.  I buckled up Lexi in the seat behind me and cried all the way home.  On top of being sad...I felt a little guilty about lying.  Certainly, I could tell my Pastor I'm not okay, right?  I don’t know why some days are like this.  Some days the pain is so terrible…so raw…like it just happened.  And other days, it feels like it happened a lifetime ago.  Like I am completely numb.  I read in a book about infant loss that said grief comes in gradual increments because your heart couldn’t take the pain if it was all given to you at once.  I believe that wholeheartedly.  As time passes, I just miss him more and more.  I didn't think it would be like this:(

Anyway, yesterday we started a new bible study.  It is called “Not a Fan.”  It is about asking yourself if you are a fan or a follower of Jesus?  Do you give him the keys to all the rooms of your life or keep him compartmentalized to a certain area?  This is what Jesus said “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me.” Luke 9:23.  Take up his cross daily!!!!  You hear it said that everyone has a cross to bear.  Right now I feel like my cross is unbearably heavy.  Some days I swear it is too heavy to even drag like it is going to crush me.  Other days, friends come along and help burden some of the weight, like Simon with Jesus.  Even with help, it is still a difficult cross to carry. 

So you can continue to pray for us.  We are still so sad…so broken…but we have HOPE.

No words...

Lately, I just have no words...I know, hard to believe!  I almost feel like I should apologize for my lack of words.  There just aren't words to adequately describe what I would like to say, therefore; perhaps it's better not to speak at all. 

I get e-mails, texts, facebook messages, etc from very kind people letting me know that they are thinking about me or praying for me.  I LOVE that!  But I rarely reply.  I mean really, what do you say when someone says "I'm thinking about you" or "I'm praying for you"?  Thank you hardly seems adequate.  So I say nothing... There just are not words to even begin to express what it means to me to know that people still care.  It is my hope that I do not come across as ungrateful because I feel just the opposite.  I feel blessed.  Sometimes these little messages give me hope for the day.  There is a lady at church who has sent me many "thinking of you" cards during these past few months.  She sent one when we lost AJ, and the next week, and on my due date, and again a couple weeks later, and about a month after that.  I have wrote her a thank you note but I am sure she will never fully understand what these have meant to me.  I re-read them all the time.  She was an acquaintance.  She is now a dear friend.

I also don't have words to describe how I feel.  I don't believe there is a word in the English language that can describe it...miserable...maybe.  When people ask how I am, I just answer "fine" or "okay."  I mean, what choice do I have?  I have to be okay, right?  Really...I'm sad.  Very sad in fact.  I feel alone, even when surrounded by people.  I'm heartbroken.  I don't really know what to do next...although I guess I'm already doing it...I keep moving, going forward, getting through each day.

I am a huge fan of Pinterest.  Borderline addict.  I read this on there and feel it is very accurate:

          6 Stages of Grief

          1) Sadness
          2) Overwhelming sadness
          3) Incomprehensible sadness
          4) Crippling sadness
          5) Misery and despair
          6) Accepting your never ending sadness

I think I'm at stage 3 :)

I also read this quote which I thought was really interesting...

"A wife who loses a husband is called a widow.
 A husband who loses a wife is called a widower.
 A child who loses a parent is called an orphan.
 There is no word for a parent who loses a child.
That's how awful the loss is."
                  ~Ronald Regan

So, with all that being said, please know that I do appreciate every little act of kindness and sometimes it's the smallest things that mean the most.  I'll give you an example.  I was just chit-chatting with a lady while we were waiting for our boys to finish up football practice.  Somehow we got on the subject of baby names.  We discussed names we used and didn't use and why and then she asked me how we picked Andrew's name.  She is the first person, besides other mothers who have gone through something similar and my bff, to ever ask me anything about AJ.  It felt good to tell her.  Again, I doubt she will ever fully realize how much that one little question has meant to me, but for that little opportunity to talk about my son, I am grateful.

So on the crazy hard journey, I am learning to be grateful...although quiet...I am still grateful.

Back to School

Well, the kids started back to school today.  It's a little bittersweet.  Our summer was hard.  In a way this seems like starting a new chapter or perhaps just turning a page.  We deliberately had NOTHING planned for this summer.  The summer was supposed to be spent getting to know our new baby.  Instead it was spent mourning our son and brother.  I am a planner...perhaps God is trying to teach me that it's okay to NOT have it all together.  And more importantly, that my plan is not His plan. 

I'm a little nervous for the boys.  I know that first day of school is spent talking about what everyone did this summer.   I wonder what my boys will say.  After all, they held and buried their brother.  They attended their first funeral.  They took a tour of the funeral home.  They spent evenings at the cemetery sending message filled balloons to heaven.  They have spent lots of time praying for little AJ.  What will they say?  Maybe they will just talk about swimming at the pool or getting our new cows.  I know Blake was a little apprehensive about what others would say to him, if people would tell him they were sorry about his brother.  I hope they have a good day.  I have been praying for them.

Blake is playing football again this year which means we spend lots of time at practices and every Sunday night at games in Sioux Falls.  I see parents get so worked up about these 5th & 6th grade games and their child's playing time or abilities.  I think that I am not raising athletes or high academic achievers...I am raising little men after God's heart.  When they graduate from high school, I don't care if they are valedictorians, on National Honor Society or quarter back for the football team.  I care that they have a heart for God.  That they treat others with love and respect regardless of where they come from.  I just cannot stand the "cocky" kids that think they are all that.  They walk around putting others down to make themselves look good.  I am far more proud of the kids who may not play much but are still good sports.  The kids that congratulate the kid who made the catch or scored the touch down.  The kids that show real team spirit.  After all, when school is done, which skill is going to get you further--being able to catch a football or being able to show joy and compassion for others. 

Lately, the words to the song "Where I belong" by Building 429 have been playing over and over in my head.  The chorus goes like this:
         "All I know is I'm not home yet, this is not where I belong.  Take this world and give me Jesus. 
          This is not where I belong."
This is exactly how I have been feeling lately.  Like I just do not belong here anymore.  Like there is something far more important than this earthly existence.  I long for the day when I can sit in the splendor of Jesus Christ for eternity with ALL of my children.  Now, it is my job to see that my children here with me have that same love for the Lord, so we can all be together at the Throne.  So, I'll say it again...I'm not trying to raise athletes and academic scholars...I'm trying to raise children with a genuine heart for our Lord, Jesus Christ.  I challenge all of you to do the same.

"Where I belong" by Building 429     http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzrMegNcCVA

8-29-2012
I just had to add to this post.  I was doing dishes the other night and thinking about AJ while listening to the radio.  The song "Homesick" by Mercy Me came on and I couldn't think of a more appropriate song.  It is amazing how God lays things on your heart.  I know this is not my Home and the things of this earth are just temporary.  I can't wait to be Home with you baby boy!  Here are the lyrics:

You're in a better place
I've heard a thousand times.
And at least a thousand times
I've rejoiced for you.
But the reason why I'm broken
is how long must I wait to be with you?

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is
then I'm out of place.
Lord won't you give me strength
to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now

Help me Lord cause I don't
understand your ways.
The reason why I wonder if I'll ever know.
But even if you showed me,
the hurt would be the same
because I'm still here
so far away from Home.

In Christ there are no goodbyes.
In Christ there is no end.
So I'll hold on to Jesus
to see you again
to see you again.
*****


Homesick by Mercy Me    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g3k1rJOQPdY
Could any words ring truer?

Two months in Heaven

Well, last Wednesday we celebrated AJ's 2nd month in Heaven.  It is hard to believe it's been two months already.  Some days it all still feels so fresh.  We went out the the cemetery again and let two message filled balloons go.  We used red ones this time so we could seem them longer.  It was a calm, sunny evening and we watched them float away for a long time.  The kids were kind of excited about it this time.  They started thinking about their messages several days prior.

We also added a little "night light" at his grave site.  I just hate that he doesn't have a marker out at the cemetary yet.  He's in a pretty 'unpopulated' part of the cemetary and there are not too many markers out there.  If it wasn't for the little blue flag that the monument company put out there (and the ring of dead grass from his flowers being out there too long) I don't think I'd be able to find him.  So we added a little solar powered cross.  The headstone should be in place at the end of August or beginning of September.  I can't wait to have something permenant...something with his name on it...something to prove he was real...

I drove by it last night when it was lit up and it is really pretty.  I just wish it was a night light for his room instead of his grave:(   I just can't wait to get to Heaven to see the 'big picture.'  I have been reading lots of books and blogs about stillbirth and grief and someone posted once that it is obvious that the people who say "Time goes too fast" have never lost a child.  For me, everyday that is done, means I am one day closer to meeting my son.  And I just can't wait to meet my son:)



^^Andrew's^^ Garden

On the day of Andrew's funeral, we arrived at the church to find a big display in the entry way with a bird bath, a turtle with Andrew's name on it, a beautiful stone and some plants.  I had no idea where it came from or what it was for, but it was beautiful.  After the funeral, we were told that it was a gift of a "Memorial Garden" from John's siblings.  They took all the pieces back home and told us that when we were ready, they would bring them over to our house.

For a few weeks prior to Andrew's birth, we had been talking about replacing our plastic edging with a stamped concrete curb and had been getting some prices.  After his death, we were trying to decide if this was the right time since now we had other unexpected expenses.  We decided to just have it done and it turned out beautiful.  The following week, John's sister, Christy brought out most of the pieces and we put up the bird bath and planted the plants.  We were still waiting for the last piece...the stone with Andrew's name engraved on it.  Christy was able to get the stone finished and ran it out to our house on the evening of July 3rd.  It was perfect and beautiful, even sweeter than I imagined.

Sometimes I will just sit out there and trace the letters of his name with my finger.  I miss him more with each passing day. 

His rose bushes are beautiful, too.  Today they are covered in pretty little red roses.  I spend time out there every night watering and weeding and just thinking about my beautiful baby boy...thinking about what could have been...what life would be like with him here...wondering if the pain of missing him will ever go away...but mostly I think about how blessed I am to be the mother of someone so perfect...to never have been touched by sin...to already be standing in the presence of God.  He is such a lucky boy and John and I have been so very blessed to be his parents, even if our time with him was brief.

Here are some more pictures of  ^^Andrew's^^ Garden. 

John and I purchased the little angel and the dragonfly. When we were in the hospital, they used the symbol of the dragon fly on our door to let any staff that came into our room know that we had lost a baby. They shared the story with us and since then I have bought the kids a book called "Waterbugs and Dragonflies." In short, the story talks about how dragonflies start as waterbugs. They scurry around the bottom of the pond and one day they will crawl up the stem of a pond lily and go above the surface of the water. Once that happens they grow wings and they cannot return to the water. Even if they could return, no one would recognize them in their new bodies. The waterbugs will have to wait until they become dragonflies to see their loved ones and then they will understand. So...I guess, I am a waterbug and Andrew is my dragonfly. So, I can no longer see a dragonfly without thinking of my precious son. 

Thank you God for the memories I do have of my son!

Scared or Fearless?

I have been thinking really hard over these past 6 weeks about what lessons can be taken away from AJ's death.  My first thought was that now I am fearless.  I have lost a child...and what can be scarier than that.  I thought that nothing could scare me, that I have been through the worst.  That anything anyone does to me or says about me cannot compare to hell I have been feeling.  I'm not afraid at all of dying, in fact, I can't wait.  It's the first time I've been thankful for my "bad genes."  So what is there to fear....?

In the middle of the night on the 3rd of July, Alexa woke up with a really croupy cough.  We watched her struggle to breathe and watched her little chest heave up and down.  We were trying to decide if we should take her to the ER or not.  Luckily, I had some left over Albuterol in the cupboard so we gave her a nebulizer treatment and took her into the super cold basement and she seemed to do better.  While she was struggling to breath, John and I didn't have to say a word.  We both had tears in our eyes and knew exactly what the other one was thinking..."we couldn't survive losing another child." 

I took the kids to the swimming pool today.  I, being 6 weeks postpartum, haven't had the nerve to put a swim suit on yet.  So I sit on the side of the pool and watch the kids swim.  Lexi was out toward the middle of the first pool and she lost her footing and went under water.  I couldn't reach her.  She was only under for a few seconds, but I think my heart stopped.  I wanted to snatch her up and take her straight home.  I wanted to hold her and never let go.  Now when Isaak rides his motorcycle, I hold my breath and hope nothing goes wrong.  When the kids ride with someone else, my head fills with all kinds of scenarios that could happen.

So...I am not fearless....I am more scared than ever.  Scared that something will happen to one of my other children.   I am trying not to be a worry wort...but it's hard.  An innocence has been taken from me.  I've always known the life was precious, but I have a new view on how fragile it is.  No one should know how much it hurts to bury a child.  It's not natural...

"Cast your burdens upon the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken."  Ps. 56:22

Running...

I was visiting with a mom the other day that had also lost a child.   She was talking about some of the insensitive things that other people had said to her when she lost her baby.  I told her I couldn't think of anything offensive that anyone had said to me...and then I couldn't help but laugh...because I really haven't been anywhere.

Since Andrew died, I have really limited my exposure to people.  I don't know why.  I guess I am afraid that someone will say something and I will burst into tears.  I "pay at the pump" when I get gas.  I don't answer my phone unless I recognize the number.  I run through the store, only picking up a few necessities - usually buns and milk- and I always bring the kids with me.  I think they act as a buffer.  Who is going to tell me how terribly sorry they are in front of 4 kids?  I never make eye contact...I walk fast...like I'm on a mission.  I now do my major grocery shopping out of town.  For several weeks, we had so much food, I didn't need to go to the store.  Now it's time to get back to the real world.  I'm just not quite ready to take it head on.

I'm almost embarrassed to share this story.  Yesterday, I stopped on the side of the post office, jumped out of my vehicle and walked to the blue box to put my house payment in.  After dropping it in, I noticed one of my classmates mothers walking toward the mailbox.  She was probably 12 steps away.  I turned around and ran back to my car.  Even while I was doing it, I was thinking how ridiculous I am.  I just wanted to feel safe...in my comfort zone.  Ridiculous, I know!  I feel at least there is hope for me.  I'm running away and I know it...I'm not denying that I'm crazy.  That's a start!

The only other place I have really gone is church.  I love our church family.  I am so thankful for the ladies in my bible study that I know are continuing to pray for us.  We have found much encouragement through our church family...but it is by no means easy to show up there every Sunday either.   I am thankful I have four other children or I probably wouldn't get out of my bed in the morning;)  They are a blessing but it doesn't make losing Andrew any easier.

One Month in Heaven

On Monday, Andrew should have been one month old.  I have spent much time trying to decide how or if milestones like this should be celebrated.  If he were here with us, of course I would have dressed him up, took his picture for his album and posted it on facebook.  Without him here...well what do you do?  I wanted to do something that would include the kids and make them feel like they are still big brothers and sister.  They were all so excited to have a new baby in the house.  Of course, John and I feel a terrible loss but I also feel that loss for my children.  We all had plans and dreams for him, not just me... Oh, how I wish things were different!

Anyway, I decided that we would do a balloon release every month on his "month-a-versary."  We would all write him a message and send the balloon to Heaven.  John liked the idea.  Blake looked at me like I was crazy.  Isaak said it would never work because it would probably get popped on a star before it made it to Heaven.  Lexi was excited and Mason didn't really have an opinion.  We let ONE balloon go for his one month anniversary in Heaven.  My intentions are to let two go next month, three the next and so on.  However, living in South Dakota, I'm not sure what helium balloons will do in the bitter cold of winter so I may need to adjust my plan. 

We went to the cemetery and wrote our messages.  The kids all let the balloon go and it headed straight for the church roof.  You can imagine my relief when a gust of wind suddenly took the balloon up and lifted it out of sight.  I didn't have a back up plan if it would have popped before it was out of sight.  I used a baby blue colored balloon, which I thought was appropriate, but it is very hard to see in the pictures.

On Tuesday when I was putting Lexi to bed, I asked her if she thought AJ got our balloon.  She quickly said "no."  I thought that was odd, why would she doubt that it made it.  I asked her why she thought that and she said "AJ's too small to catch a balloon."  That never crossed my mind.  Sometimes she is just too smart!  I said that maybe someone in Heaven caught it for him and read our messages.  Then she said "Mom, do you think Jesus is tall?  I bet Jesus caught it and read it to him."  I am sure Jesus is tall enough to catch our balloon.  She is so sweet!  She cries almost every day, usually at bed time, because she misses her baby brother.   We all miss him!

A New Blog

I have decided to start a blog...because our life has been so interesting lately...maybe interesting isn't the right word:(  There are just so many things I would like to say...but can't.  I want everyone to remember my precious and beautiful son, AJ but I can barely utter his name without tears.  I hope this becomes easier as time passes.  It's hard to honor him without being able to say his name.  Anyway, I have titled our blog "Walking by Faith" because right now that's all I have.  It would be impossible to get out of bed in the morning without the faith in knowing that someday I will see my little Andrew again.   I recently read in a book this sentence that has stuck with me.  "If by choosing to follow Jesus, people were exempt from the trials of this life along with the heartbreak and pain they bring, no one would choose Him for Him."  Pretty powerful stuff, huh?  It went on to say "One of the reasons God allows us to suffer along with this fallen world is to ensure that our love for Him is genuine, but that isn't the only reason.  Another reason is that He loves this fallen world and wants us to be effective in our ministry to it."  We have already seen little "miracles" because of our sweet AJ, of course I would rather have him here, but that is not the walk we are on.

Today AJ should be one month old.  I can't even believe a whole month has passed.  I can still remember every detail like it was yesterday.  The scenes from those few days play over and over in my mind like I'm watching them on a movie screen.  Sort of like I'm watching someone else's story.  Certain days of the week are emotional for me.  Every Thursday I think "2 or 3 or 4 weeks ago on this day, I found out my baby didn't have a heartbeat."  Every Friday I think "2 or 3 or 4 weeks ago I delivered AJ."  Every Saturday I think "2 or 3 or 4 weeks ago I left my baby at the hospital and went home with empty arms."  And every Monday I think "2 or 3 or 4 weeks ago I buried my son."  I hope I quit doing that too.  It is just so hard because life keeps going on and it sort of seems like we're stuck here...and I'm not quite sure where "here" is...but it hurts. 

I have been trying really hard not to question God.  I have never said "why me?"  because I can just hear God saying "why not you?"  I have tried to stay away from the "what if's" because I know that I could drive myself crazy.  Whenever I start to go there...I stop and pray...because the last thing I need is for the devil to get a foothold.  I know God is walking with me.  I can feel it...but it doesn't make me miss my AJ any less.  Actually, as time has passed, I miss him more.  I didn't know that would be possible and we've been a little unprepared for that.  I really figured as time passed, we would feel a little better each day.  I can honestly say that after one month I feel worse.  It is an actual physical pain.  It is indescribable...sort of like a knot in my stomach or sometimes like a brick on my chest but always like an emptiness in my heart.

I noticed as I write this, I sometimes call him AJ and sometimes Andrew.  You will have to bear with me.  Those of you that walked through this pregnancy with me know that we had zero names for a baby boy.  In fact, we joked that if we had a boy we probably wouldn't name him for a week or so as we were going to "test drive" some names on him since we couldn't agree on any.  When we had our ultrasound that determined he didn't have a heartbeat, I also had them check the gender.  "It's a boy!"  We laid awake all night that night trying to pick a name.  I figured we wouldn't be in any shape to pick one after he was born.  I think John would have let me name him anything I wanted but I thought it should be something "special" not the cutest or trendiest name.  I wanted it to be perfect because this is the only thing we really get to give him...a name.  In the wee hours of the morning, John suggested that we use our initials (A from Angie and J from John) and name him AJ.  I loved it but thought he should have a "real name" not just a set of initials.  We narrowed it down to Andrew or Anthony.  We have a great nephew named Anthony so we went with Andrew...Andrew John.  I think it's perfect:) 

So as I sit here tonight and ponder where we go from here, I will leave you with this quote I read on facebook..."God has a perfect plan for us.  He never does it all at once just step by step because he wants to teach us to "Walk by Faith" not by sight."

"For we walk by Faith not by sight" 2 Corinthian 5:7