11.30.13
On Saturday, I got adventurous and decided to run a few errands when we were back in Dallas. Alex had just gotten a new video game and he wanted to stay home and play it.
Side note- Yes I "let" my husband play video games whenever he wants to. The reason is two-fold: first off, I don't want to take something away from him that helps him relax. He doesn't do it to an extreme, he doesn't ignore me to play his games, and if I need to talk to him he immediately pauses the game and looks me in the face to talk to me. He's an adult about it, if you know what I mean. Secondly, there was a study that came out a few years ago that RPGs (Role Playing Games) can actually reduce the symptoms of PTSD. Now, Alex hasn't been diagnosed with PTSD and I don't really suspect that he has PTSD, but he also has been through his second deployment and lost his daughter all within the last year. If he needs to replace some of the memories that he has from Afghanistan with graphics from a zombie game, so be it.
Anyways, So I decided to venture over to Michaels (I needed a new frame for our wedding picture that got broken in The Big Fight) and I needed to go to Sam's club for a few things. Both of these places are in the same strip mall, so I was totally fine with going by myself as I anticipated being back at the house within an hour.
My trip to Michaels was pretty uneventful. I found a really pretty new frame that fits in well with our decor in the bedroom. It was pretty crowded, but not awful.
Then I went to Sam's. I didn't expect there to be as many kids out as there were. I walked through the isles and picked up the few things I needed and then I heard the cry. It was a young cry, I knew it was a baby. My stomach felt like I got punched. I closed my eyes and did some deep breathing; I wasn't about to let myself loose it in the middle of Sam's club.
I walked up and down the isles again looking for the few things I had come to the store for. Then I saw her. She was probably about a year old with blonde hair and a pink jumpsuit on. She was crying in earnest and had twisted herself in the infant seat all the way around so that she was looking over the front of the cart at me. Her eyes met mine as she cried, and one big crocodile tear ran down the bridge of her nose and into the cart. Her dad was pushing the cart and he was rubbing on her back trying to console her.
I pretty much had a panic attack. I kept walking to the produce section, but I was breathing really fast trying to keep myself from completely falling apart. I probably walked around the produce section three or four times trying to calm down. Finally, I decided to try to go check out and go home where I could cry in peace.
I waited in the line to check out and who would get in the line next to me but little miss crocodile tears. I can tell you this was the most uncomfortable situation I have probably ever been in. I was sitting there blinking back the tears and trying to look anywhere but at this crying baby girl. The lady checking out the line was moving slower than Christmas. It was really, really hard for me not to yell at her, "Can we just hurry it up please?!" She tried to make small talk with me as she scanned my items, but I just gave her one word answers. My eyes were brimming with tears, and above all I was embarrassed. I don't cry in front of people very often, and I don't ever cry in front of strangers.
As soon as I was out of the store, the wave of tears hit. I started crying really hard as I loaded all my groceries in the back of the car. I cried the whole way home, and when I came in the back door, Alex was there waiting with a bear hug. He let me just cry on his shoulder as I told him the story of crocodile tears and how badly I missed Kaitlyn. I wanted so badly to hear my daughter's voice. I wanted to hear her scream like she was suppose to when she made her entrance into the world. I wanted to hold her as she cried and rub on her little back to console her.
The one thought that has comforted me this whole time is that I know that Kaitlyn isn't crying. She's not sad, she's not hurting. She's sitting by our maker and maybe when we are in a good place she is looking down on us.
Kaitlyn
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
I need to see beauty
As you can tell, for the last few weeks I have been in an emotional slump. I don't know if it was just the holidays, but I was struggling with staying positive. At some point, I talked to Alex and my mom about needing to see true beauty in the world.
I went to Kenya on a mission trip in 2009. We spent a significant amount of time in the slums of one of the major cities serving at a school for the kids of the area. When I say slums, I'm not being dramatic. Here is one of the areas we drove through every day:
I went to Kenya on a mission trip in 2009. We spent a significant amount of time in the slums of one of the major cities serving at a school for the kids of the area. When I say slums, I'm not being dramatic. Here is one of the areas we drove through every day:
We met families that live in these areas, and most of them would be living in a 10ft x 10ft structure with their entire family. If they were fortunate, they would be able to afford a single electric lightbulb to light their room. One of the people on the trip took a picture from on top of a building looking out over the valley where all these shacks were, I wish I had it to share with you to show the absolute desolation in the area.
After we served our days in the school, our group got to go out on the Maasai Mara which is actually part of the Serengeti.
On the way in to the reserve
Literally when we got off the plane
Sunset
Yeah this is really a picture I took and yeah we were really that close!
This is one of the last pictures I took: there was a field completely covered with spider webs and I snapped the picture. As we were driving, I thought to myself- each of those spiders was provided food from their web. If God cares enough about a dang spider to make sure that it has something to eat, how much more does He care for us?
This is what I'm talking about. God's perfect glory in creation
While we were out there, Chris was talking to us about how much he appreciated the opportunities he and Brandi had in making trips out to this reserve. "I need to be reminded of God's glory sometimes," he admitted. "Sometimes when you work day in and day out in poverty, it is easy to get overwhelmed with the sadness that exists there. Seeing the natural beauty that God laid out here for us helps me to keep my perspective of the bigger purpose."
That's where I'm at right now. I am struggling with my every day sadness, and I need to be reminded of God's beauty in creation. My mom recommended us going to a resort in Florida, but I told her I need to see something not man-made. I would love to go back to Kenya, but with my work schedule its just not going to be possible.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Thanksgiving
11.28.13
We had made plans to meet my parents in Austin for the Thanksgiving holiday. We knew that the families in Houston would be busy with Sir William, so we had made our usual plans of attending the University of Texas football game and spending family time together. Chad and Jenny were invited to the game and decided to join us for Thanksgiving dinner too!
Alex and I got there late Wednesday night, and Thursday morning was spent getting all the food ready for our big meal. Chad and Jenny arrived around 11, and we decided to go ahead and eat our grub so we could get to the stadium early.
My Dad always blesses the meals when we're in their house. He prayed a prayer of thanks, and somewhere nestled in the middle of it he said, "And thank you for baby Kaitlyn and all she's taught us about You." Yeah that's about all I needed to start crying again.
Holidays are hard. I really didn't understand before I started living them. When we went to one of our first group counseling sessions, the leader had said that holidays are really hard and Alex and I both thought, "Why? Especially for us, its not like we had our child and then lost them... We didn't make memories with Kaitlyn over Christmas or New Years or Thanksgiving... Why should holidays be any harder than any other day?" Well, we were wrong. Thanksgiving was hard. Halloween was hard, but that one I can kind of understand because there are so many kids out and about on Halloween.
We loaded up in my Mom's car and headed down to the stadium. We always stop by the band hall and hear the drums warm up on our way down from the parking garage, and this day I stopped by and said hi to a friend of mine from college. Natalie and I have crossed paths a couple of times, but we first met when I was a sophomore in college and still living in the dorms. She lived down the hall from me, and I just remember eating with her and some of our other friends in the cafeteria when she talked about her pacemaker, Paco. Funny that my first job out of college was selling and troubleshooting pacemakers! I met Natalie's mom at my home hospital out of pure coincidence, and we have all three been keeping in touch over the past few years. Anyways, I went and hugged on Natalie because she's always hanging around the band hall with all the drumline alumni. She hugged on me and expressed her sympathies for our loss. I was okay at the moment and didn't feel like I needed to cry, but I thanked her for her thoughts and prayers.
Off we went down to the stadium. The game turned out rather well (Go Horns), but at different points during the game I needed to sit down. Grief is a really weird beast in that it can just sneak up on you when you'd least expect it. I was sitting in a stadium filled with over 100,000 people and I still felt more alone than anything. I missed Kaitlyn. I wasn't suppose to be at this game, I was suppose to be at home with my baby girl. I think Alex felt it, too, because we kept sitting down at the same times. I squeezed on his hand and told him I was sad. You would think that being at a loud football game would be the perfect distraction for us to not be sad and to not be missing Kaitlyn that badly, but we did. I wanted to hold her sweet little hands and see her little toes (she totally had Alex's toes, and they were gorgeous). I wanted to be able to play with her dark, thick hair that I can claim as my own. I just missed her, plain and simple.
In the midst of all that, I was able to muster out my Thanksgiving thankful post for facebook:
Day 28: I am thankful for Kaitlyn's life. I am thankful that God allowed us to get pregnant when we did because I got to have a little buddy during his final deployment. I am thankful that God chose us to share His glory. I am thankful that we live in an age where her story has literally traveled the globe and I have received messages from strangers about how our daughter changed their lives.
Love your kiddos today, even if they don't eat their turkey and head straight for the dessert. Hug your families even if they annoy the crap out of you. Live (and love) like tomorrow is not promised.
We had made plans to meet my parents in Austin for the Thanksgiving holiday. We knew that the families in Houston would be busy with Sir William, so we had made our usual plans of attending the University of Texas football game and spending family time together. Chad and Jenny were invited to the game and decided to join us for Thanksgiving dinner too!
Alex and I got there late Wednesday night, and Thursday morning was spent getting all the food ready for our big meal. Chad and Jenny arrived around 11, and we decided to go ahead and eat our grub so we could get to the stadium early.
My Dad always blesses the meals when we're in their house. He prayed a prayer of thanks, and somewhere nestled in the middle of it he said, "And thank you for baby Kaitlyn and all she's taught us about You." Yeah that's about all I needed to start crying again.
Holidays are hard. I really didn't understand before I started living them. When we went to one of our first group counseling sessions, the leader had said that holidays are really hard and Alex and I both thought, "Why? Especially for us, its not like we had our child and then lost them... We didn't make memories with Kaitlyn over Christmas or New Years or Thanksgiving... Why should holidays be any harder than any other day?" Well, we were wrong. Thanksgiving was hard. Halloween was hard, but that one I can kind of understand because there are so many kids out and about on Halloween.
We loaded up in my Mom's car and headed down to the stadium. We always stop by the band hall and hear the drums warm up on our way down from the parking garage, and this day I stopped by and said hi to a friend of mine from college. Natalie and I have crossed paths a couple of times, but we first met when I was a sophomore in college and still living in the dorms. She lived down the hall from me, and I just remember eating with her and some of our other friends in the cafeteria when she talked about her pacemaker, Paco. Funny that my first job out of college was selling and troubleshooting pacemakers! I met Natalie's mom at my home hospital out of pure coincidence, and we have all three been keeping in touch over the past few years. Anyways, I went and hugged on Natalie because she's always hanging around the band hall with all the drumline alumni. She hugged on me and expressed her sympathies for our loss. I was okay at the moment and didn't feel like I needed to cry, but I thanked her for her thoughts and prayers.
Off we went down to the stadium. The game turned out rather well (Go Horns), but at different points during the game I needed to sit down. Grief is a really weird beast in that it can just sneak up on you when you'd least expect it. I was sitting in a stadium filled with over 100,000 people and I still felt more alone than anything. I missed Kaitlyn. I wasn't suppose to be at this game, I was suppose to be at home with my baby girl. I think Alex felt it, too, because we kept sitting down at the same times. I squeezed on his hand and told him I was sad. You would think that being at a loud football game would be the perfect distraction for us to not be sad and to not be missing Kaitlyn that badly, but we did. I wanted to hold her sweet little hands and see her little toes (she totally had Alex's toes, and they were gorgeous). I wanted to be able to play with her dark, thick hair that I can claim as my own. I just missed her, plain and simple.
In the midst of all that, I was able to muster out my Thanksgiving thankful post for facebook:
Day 28: I am thankful for Kaitlyn's life. I am thankful that God allowed us to get pregnant when we did because I got to have a little buddy during his final deployment. I am thankful that God chose us to share His glory. I am thankful that we live in an age where her story has literally traveled the globe and I have received messages from strangers about how our daughter changed their lives.
Love your kiddos today, even if they don't eat their turkey and head straight for the dessert. Hug your families even if they annoy the crap out of you. Live (and love) like tomorrow is not promised.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Mondays Stink
11.25.13
Mondays in general are rough. I don't know why, but there hasn't been a Monday since I went back to work that I felt good about.
This Monday was no different. I went to my home hospital and did some training for a new product we have coming out, but I still felt down in general. Kate had emailed me that morning and said that her schedule had gotten all messed up and she needed me to come in early. I hung around as long as possible at work, and then headed out to Kate's office.
I got there and she had another client in her office. Her office is kind of like a townhome that had been renovated to make offices. Hers is upstairs and there is a little waiting room across from her office. I sat down and started skimming over some of her magazines. When she came to get me, I picked my stuff up and headed over towards her couch.
"How are you today?" She asked. "Bad", I replied. "Yeah, I can tell." She said softly. I just started crying again. "I am so tired. I am tired of being sad. I am tired of missing Kaitlyn. I want to hold my daughter again." I sat there and just sobbed for the first few minutes as Kate listened. I told her about the stories of not letting what other people went through to affect how I was feeling, and how over the last week I had been consciously NOT working on everyone else's issues. She nodded as I recounted stories from the last week of feeling down and missing Kaitlyn really badly.
When I had finished, she said, "You may not feel like you have made any progress in your grieving this week, but I promise you, you have. You have slowed down enough to feel things again. For a while there, I was concerned that you were going to get so busy with everything that you would not slow down and really feel what has happened. This week, you slowed down so you kind of had a delayed response to going back to work. When you look back on this week in the coming weeks you will see how much progress you made." I just shrugged at her and said, "I'm still tired of being sad. I'm not a sad person, but I can't control how I feel about everything." Again she nodded and said, "This will get better. You're always going to miss Kaitlyn, but that sharp stabbing pain of missing her is going to fade into a dull throb over time."
After we finished talking, I was exhausted. I went home and took a nap to try to function for the rest of the day before I went to bed. I woke up and decided that I was going to return a phone call from Jan (the lady who gave me the bracelet I wear every day that has Kaitlyn's name engraved on the inside).
Jan picked up the phone and told me she had been busy all day putting up her Christmas decorations. She asked how I was doing and I was honest with her about just feeling down. She told me that she missed her son, Chris, every day and that nothing was ever going to make that missing go away until she is reunited with him in heaven.
She also told me something that has really helped her keep positive in her every day life. She said that for every little thing that she does, if something comes easy, she claims it as the favor of God. "I live in the favor of God. " she said passionately. "If I am looking for something and I find it, its the favor. If I get a really great parking spot at the store, its the favor. I claim God's favor over my life and it really had helped me be aware of all the things I have to be thankful for."
Have I mentioned how much I love this lady? I really wish I could figure out how to put a sound clip of her talking on here because her voice and tone are just so fun to listen to. Its almost like a sing-song voice.
I promised Jan I would start looking for the little things to try to be thankful for, and that I was going to take the phrase "I live in the favor of God" and say it over my life.
Mondays in general are rough. I don't know why, but there hasn't been a Monday since I went back to work that I felt good about.
This Monday was no different. I went to my home hospital and did some training for a new product we have coming out, but I still felt down in general. Kate had emailed me that morning and said that her schedule had gotten all messed up and she needed me to come in early. I hung around as long as possible at work, and then headed out to Kate's office.
I got there and she had another client in her office. Her office is kind of like a townhome that had been renovated to make offices. Hers is upstairs and there is a little waiting room across from her office. I sat down and started skimming over some of her magazines. When she came to get me, I picked my stuff up and headed over towards her couch.
"How are you today?" She asked. "Bad", I replied. "Yeah, I can tell." She said softly. I just started crying again. "I am so tired. I am tired of being sad. I am tired of missing Kaitlyn. I want to hold my daughter again." I sat there and just sobbed for the first few minutes as Kate listened. I told her about the stories of not letting what other people went through to affect how I was feeling, and how over the last week I had been consciously NOT working on everyone else's issues. She nodded as I recounted stories from the last week of feeling down and missing Kaitlyn really badly.
When I had finished, she said, "You may not feel like you have made any progress in your grieving this week, but I promise you, you have. You have slowed down enough to feel things again. For a while there, I was concerned that you were going to get so busy with everything that you would not slow down and really feel what has happened. This week, you slowed down so you kind of had a delayed response to going back to work. When you look back on this week in the coming weeks you will see how much progress you made." I just shrugged at her and said, "I'm still tired of being sad. I'm not a sad person, but I can't control how I feel about everything." Again she nodded and said, "This will get better. You're always going to miss Kaitlyn, but that sharp stabbing pain of missing her is going to fade into a dull throb over time."
After we finished talking, I was exhausted. I went home and took a nap to try to function for the rest of the day before I went to bed. I woke up and decided that I was going to return a phone call from Jan (the lady who gave me the bracelet I wear every day that has Kaitlyn's name engraved on the inside).
Jan picked up the phone and told me she had been busy all day putting up her Christmas decorations. She asked how I was doing and I was honest with her about just feeling down. She told me that she missed her son, Chris, every day and that nothing was ever going to make that missing go away until she is reunited with him in heaven.
She also told me something that has really helped her keep positive in her every day life. She said that for every little thing that she does, if something comes easy, she claims it as the favor of God. "I live in the favor of God. " she said passionately. "If I am looking for something and I find it, its the favor. If I get a really great parking spot at the store, its the favor. I claim God's favor over my life and it really had helped me be aware of all the things I have to be thankful for."
Have I mentioned how much I love this lady? I really wish I could figure out how to put a sound clip of her talking on here because her voice and tone are just so fun to listen to. Its almost like a sing-song voice.
I promised Jan I would start looking for the little things to try to be thankful for, and that I was going to take the phrase "I live in the favor of God" and say it over my life.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Love is War and Oceans
I downloaded the album from Hillsong United called Zion. Two songs from them have been on replay for the past few weeks:
Oceans (Where feet may fail) [super effective in bringing on the tears if you have your eyes closed with the sun shining through your eyelids]
You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand
And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine
Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now
So I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine
Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior
[x6]
I will call upon Your Name
Keep my eyes above the waves
My soul will rest in Your embrace
I am Yours and You are mine
Love is War
In Your justice and Your mercy
Heaven walked the broken road
Here to fight this sinner's battle
Here to make my fall Your own
Turn my eyes to see Your face
As all my fears surrender
Hold my heart within this grace
Where burden turns to wonder
I will fight to follow
I will fight for love
To throw my life forever
Into the triumph of the Son
Let Your love be my companion
In the war against my pride
Long to break all vain obsession
Till You're all that I desire
Turn my eyes to see Your face
As all my fears surrender
Hold my heart within this grace
Where burden turns to wonder
I will fight to follow
I will fight for love
To throw my life forever
Into the triumph of the Son
And I know Your love has won it all
You took the fall
To embrace my sorrows
I know You took the fight
You came and died but the grave was borrowed
I know You stood again
So I can stand with a life to follow
In the light of Your name
Saturday, November 23, 2013
The big fight
11.23.13
I hesitated in writing about this, but the purpose of this blog is to tell our story, the whole story even though I am embarrassed by some of it.
Alex and I had a fight. It was a big fight. It was the worst fight in the history of our relationship. I started the fight and somewhat ended the fight, but what was said and done in the middle of it was both of our faults. There was a point in the middle of that fight that I worried that this was the beginning of the end. I couldn't do or say the right thing to make all of it go away. I couldn't fix what Alex was going through, and I couldn't understand why what I was saying was making it worse instead of better.
I won't go into the details of this fight because some things should be kept private, even though most everything on here is the intricate details of my private thoughts and experiences. I felt like I needed to acknowledge the fight publicly because I know there are some moms that are in similar situations as ours reading. I want you moms to know that fights are normal, and that we had the very worst one in the history of us about 8 weeks after we lost Kaitlyn. Give yourself grace, give your husband grace, and remember to embrace each other even if you have to go to bed upset. We needed to do that on this fight, which is something we vowed we would never do. We promised to talk everything out before we went to bed, but this time we mutually agreed that we both needed to sleep and we would talk about it in the morning.
The following Monday, I talked to Kate about it and she said that she had a similar experience. Their first fight after losing Piper was a doozie, and she shuddered as she recalled what they had fought about. There is so much energy in the air with everything that has gone on, it is impossible to think that you are immune to the daily struggles of marriage. So if you have lost your child and you are reading this, I am telling you that it is okay to have a big fight. It is normal to have a big fight.
I hesitated in writing about this, but the purpose of this blog is to tell our story, the whole story even though I am embarrassed by some of it.
Alex and I had a fight. It was a big fight. It was the worst fight in the history of our relationship. I started the fight and somewhat ended the fight, but what was said and done in the middle of it was both of our faults. There was a point in the middle of that fight that I worried that this was the beginning of the end. I couldn't do or say the right thing to make all of it go away. I couldn't fix what Alex was going through, and I couldn't understand why what I was saying was making it worse instead of better.
I won't go into the details of this fight because some things should be kept private, even though most everything on here is the intricate details of my private thoughts and experiences. I felt like I needed to acknowledge the fight publicly because I know there are some moms that are in similar situations as ours reading. I want you moms to know that fights are normal, and that we had the very worst one in the history of us about 8 weeks after we lost Kaitlyn. Give yourself grace, give your husband grace, and remember to embrace each other even if you have to go to bed upset. We needed to do that on this fight, which is something we vowed we would never do. We promised to talk everything out before we went to bed, but this time we mutually agreed that we both needed to sleep and we would talk about it in the morning.
The following Monday, I talked to Kate about it and she said that she had a similar experience. Their first fight after losing Piper was a doozie, and she shuddered as she recalled what they had fought about. There is so much energy in the air with everything that has gone on, it is impossible to think that you are immune to the daily struggles of marriage. So if you have lost your child and you are reading this, I am telling you that it is okay to have a big fight. It is normal to have a big fight.
Let no one split apart what God has joined together.
Mark 10:9
Friday, November 22, 2013
And we know why you're ok
11.22.13
On Friday, I worked back at my home base hospital with the physician who came to see us in the hospital the night of Kaitlyn's stillbirth (I always struggle with what to write there... her birth? her death? Everything in between). I was talking to him a little bit about my conversation with my friend's husband about his faith and our faith, and this doctor just stopped what he was doing and hugged on me.
"What happened to you was awful. But I am so glad that you are okay." He said, "And we know why you're okay, don't we?" Yes, yes we do.
The next day was special for us: I had made plans with Jenny and Alex and Chad were going to spend the day together. We decided to all meet down at this little breakfast stop to see each other and then swap cars around.
Alex and I had been in an ongoing discussion about Christmas for the past few months. My grandma is turning 80 in December, and part of me really really wants to go and celebrate with her, but a part of me is also dreading being around everyone again. Not that my family has ever done anything but support me, but being around Ash's kids and now Sam's little boy is going to be incredibly, incredibly hard. I'm not really sure if I can handle it, but that good news is I don't have to make that decision today.
As we were driving over to meet Chad and Jenny, I told Alex that my mom had offered to book us a fight to and from Houston over the weekend of the big shindig. He was dead silent after I told him. Didn't say a word. Those of you who know my husband, you know that this can either mean that he is pissed or that he is really trying to think about his words before he lets them come flying out of his mouth.
"I'm just not sure where I'll be at that point." He said (and he wasn't talking about physically). I immediately backed off and said, "That's okay. We don't have to make any kind of decision or commitment right now. I just would rather book the tickets and be able to cancel them when we need to versus having to book them last minute and pay a lot more." We kind of just left it at that, but we both knew that the decision to go to Houston isn't going to be an easy one. Things will be different because there will always be a missing part of us.
Kaitlyn will never be restored to us on this earth. I was joking with a friend the other day that I know that God is never going to wake up one morning (if he ever sleeps...) and say, "Oh crap! I didn't mean to take Amy and Alex's baby! I meant to take this baby over here..." God doesn't make mistakes. He knew exactly what he was doing when he allowed this to happen to me and Alex. I don't know for sure what the plan is, but then if I knew everything about God he wouldn't be much of a God, now would he?
On Friday, I worked back at my home base hospital with the physician who came to see us in the hospital the night of Kaitlyn's stillbirth (I always struggle with what to write there... her birth? her death? Everything in between). I was talking to him a little bit about my conversation with my friend's husband about his faith and our faith, and this doctor just stopped what he was doing and hugged on me.
"What happened to you was awful. But I am so glad that you are okay." He said, "And we know why you're okay, don't we?" Yes, yes we do.
The next day was special for us: I had made plans with Jenny and Alex and Chad were going to spend the day together. We decided to all meet down at this little breakfast stop to see each other and then swap cars around.
Alex and I had been in an ongoing discussion about Christmas for the past few months. My grandma is turning 80 in December, and part of me really really wants to go and celebrate with her, but a part of me is also dreading being around everyone again. Not that my family has ever done anything but support me, but being around Ash's kids and now Sam's little boy is going to be incredibly, incredibly hard. I'm not really sure if I can handle it, but that good news is I don't have to make that decision today.
As we were driving over to meet Chad and Jenny, I told Alex that my mom had offered to book us a fight to and from Houston over the weekend of the big shindig. He was dead silent after I told him. Didn't say a word. Those of you who know my husband, you know that this can either mean that he is pissed or that he is really trying to think about his words before he lets them come flying out of his mouth.
"I'm just not sure where I'll be at that point." He said (and he wasn't talking about physically). I immediately backed off and said, "That's okay. We don't have to make any kind of decision or commitment right now. I just would rather book the tickets and be able to cancel them when we need to versus having to book them last minute and pay a lot more." We kind of just left it at that, but we both knew that the decision to go to Houston isn't going to be an easy one. Things will be different because there will always be a missing part of us.
Kaitlyn will never be restored to us on this earth. I was joking with a friend the other day that I know that God is never going to wake up one morning (if he ever sleeps...) and say, "Oh crap! I didn't mean to take Amy and Alex's baby! I meant to take this baby over here..." God doesn't make mistakes. He knew exactly what he was doing when he allowed this to happen to me and Alex. I don't know for sure what the plan is, but then if I knew everything about God he wouldn't be much of a God, now would he?
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Hump Day!
11.20.13
That Wednesday morning I got the call that I needed to go to yet ANOTHER new hospital that I hadn't encountered yet. Things happened outside of mine or my manager's control and they needed somebody that was through the credentialing process to go down to cover a case. At this point, I just started laughing because I had just said the day before that this was the hospital I didn't want to go to yet. I gathered my things and headed down there.
I walked into the lab and the first guy that saw me said, "Hey! You had your baby!?" and I replied, "Oh no dude, she didn't make it." and his face just fell. I followed up with a "Its cool I know where she is." I'm 100% sure I traumatized that guy, but honestly I was just so callus to the questions about Kaitlyn at this point that I just couldn't handle the pity looks anymore. I had to leave the lab area for a minute and when I came back into the room everyone kept calling me "sweetie" and "sweetheart." Good grief I am not going to break down right this second, people. I did that yesterday. I started to feel a little bit guilty about blindsiding the poor guy, but then I remembered what Kate and I had talked about on Monday and I refocused on my own emotions and decided to let everyone else go through what they needed to without my interference. That was a very strange and freeing place to be. I didn't worry about what they were thinking or if they had questions... There will be time for those conversations in the future as I continue to cover that account. But right then, at that moment, I let go of my need to fix everyone around me and just let it be.
Later that night, I met up with my Bible study girls at a local taco shop to have some quality girl time and to grab some grub. One of my very first friends that I met when I moved to Dallas is engaged, and we were all talking about her big day and where she's getting married and her colors and all that fun stuff that women talk about. I was listening in but when somebody asked her when she is getting married and she said "May 3rd", I felt something resonate in my bones that said, "You will be pregnant by then." And I started laughing a little. One of the girls looked at me funny and I just said, "Oh... I'll be pregnant by then." Like it was a complete fact, no doubt and no questions. So here it is, my faithful blog readers, I will be pregnant by May 3rd. That didn't just come out of nowhere, that is a promise that has been spoken to my soul. Its barely December as I am writing this (I always write about two weeks behind because then I don't get sidetracked writing and not living) so I am claiming a promise that is yet to come. I will be pregnant by May 3rd. Let's wait and watch what God does with me until then.
That Wednesday morning I got the call that I needed to go to yet ANOTHER new hospital that I hadn't encountered yet. Things happened outside of mine or my manager's control and they needed somebody that was through the credentialing process to go down to cover a case. At this point, I just started laughing because I had just said the day before that this was the hospital I didn't want to go to yet. I gathered my things and headed down there.
I walked into the lab and the first guy that saw me said, "Hey! You had your baby!?" and I replied, "Oh no dude, she didn't make it." and his face just fell. I followed up with a "Its cool I know where she is." I'm 100% sure I traumatized that guy, but honestly I was just so callus to the questions about Kaitlyn at this point that I just couldn't handle the pity looks anymore. I had to leave the lab area for a minute and when I came back into the room everyone kept calling me "sweetie" and "sweetheart." Good grief I am not going to break down right this second, people. I did that yesterday. I started to feel a little bit guilty about blindsiding the poor guy, but then I remembered what Kate and I had talked about on Monday and I refocused on my own emotions and decided to let everyone else go through what they needed to without my interference. That was a very strange and freeing place to be. I didn't worry about what they were thinking or if they had questions... There will be time for those conversations in the future as I continue to cover that account. But right then, at that moment, I let go of my need to fix everyone around me and just let it be.
Later that night, I met up with my Bible study girls at a local taco shop to have some quality girl time and to grab some grub. One of my very first friends that I met when I moved to Dallas is engaged, and we were all talking about her big day and where she's getting married and her colors and all that fun stuff that women talk about. I was listening in but when somebody asked her when she is getting married and she said "May 3rd", I felt something resonate in my bones that said, "You will be pregnant by then." And I started laughing a little. One of the girls looked at me funny and I just said, "Oh... I'll be pregnant by then." Like it was a complete fact, no doubt and no questions. So here it is, my faithful blog readers, I will be pregnant by May 3rd. That didn't just come out of nowhere, that is a promise that has been spoken to my soul. Its barely December as I am writing this (I always write about two weeks behind because then I don't get sidetracked writing and not living) so I am claiming a promise that is yet to come. I will be pregnant by May 3rd. Let's wait and watch what God does with me until then.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Acquaintances
11.19.13
On Tuesday I returned back to my home base hospital; the one where everyone knew what had happened and everyone was sensitive about our loss. I was relieved to be back because I knew that I had already been here once so the ice breaker was already out of the way.
Or so I thought. I was standing in line in the cafeteria when one of the RNs from the OR saw me. I worked in the OR on occasion with my previous job, so she hadn't seen me in a little while but knew I was pregnant. She said, "Oh good! You had your baby! Everyone doing ok?" Here comes the one-liner, "No, hun, she didn't make it." I kid you not, this sweet nurse stood there and cried next to me in line. She hugged on me and said, "I am so sorry I asked." Well hell! If everything had gone according to my plan then I would have been mad at her for not asking! I patted her on the back and told her I appreciated her thoughts. I wanted to sit there and hash out her grief with her, but I remembered what Kate had said about just letting everyone else deal with things the way they needed to deal with them and to focus on my own grief for now. Ugh ok.
Then I went to the checkout. The girl at the register recognized me and said, "Oh did you have your baby?!" Again with the tagline, "No, she didn't make it." And again, "I'm so sorry to hear that."
At this point, my emotions were so raw from the previous day but also from my session with Kate. I was on the verge of a meltdown right there in the dang cafeteria. I went and sat in the booth and one of my coworkers came to sit with me. About that time another staff member who I had worked with walked by. Her name is Cece and she is one of the sweetest people! She has had two little boys since I have lived in Dallas, and the first time I realized she was pregnant she was actually about 7 months along and was tickled that I hadn't noticed before. She came over to the table and leaned down and looked at my belly and said with glee, "You're not pregnant anymore!" Oh. My. Gosh. The tears welled up and I said, "Oh girl, she went to be with Jesus." And then I cried. Right there in the middle of the stupid cafeteria. She hugged on me and said, "I am so sorry, I'll leave you alone." Crap. I didn't want her to leave me alone, I didn't need to be alone. I just needed to cry for a minute.
At that point my territory manager meandered into the cafeteria and sat down with us. I was finished with my moment of tears and I told her, "Okay I'm done this week. Can I just not go to anymore 'new' hospitals this week?" And she said, "Of course, whatever you need."
But my plans never really work out the way I think they should.
On Tuesday I returned back to my home base hospital; the one where everyone knew what had happened and everyone was sensitive about our loss. I was relieved to be back because I knew that I had already been here once so the ice breaker was already out of the way.
Or so I thought. I was standing in line in the cafeteria when one of the RNs from the OR saw me. I worked in the OR on occasion with my previous job, so she hadn't seen me in a little while but knew I was pregnant. She said, "Oh good! You had your baby! Everyone doing ok?" Here comes the one-liner, "No, hun, she didn't make it." I kid you not, this sweet nurse stood there and cried next to me in line. She hugged on me and said, "I am so sorry I asked." Well hell! If everything had gone according to my plan then I would have been mad at her for not asking! I patted her on the back and told her I appreciated her thoughts. I wanted to sit there and hash out her grief with her, but I remembered what Kate had said about just letting everyone else deal with things the way they needed to deal with them and to focus on my own grief for now. Ugh ok.
Then I went to the checkout. The girl at the register recognized me and said, "Oh did you have your baby?!" Again with the tagline, "No, she didn't make it." And again, "I'm so sorry to hear that."
At this point, my emotions were so raw from the previous day but also from my session with Kate. I was on the verge of a meltdown right there in the dang cafeteria. I went and sat in the booth and one of my coworkers came to sit with me. About that time another staff member who I had worked with walked by. Her name is Cece and she is one of the sweetest people! She has had two little boys since I have lived in Dallas, and the first time I realized she was pregnant she was actually about 7 months along and was tickled that I hadn't noticed before. She came over to the table and leaned down and looked at my belly and said with glee, "You're not pregnant anymore!" Oh. My. Gosh. The tears welled up and I said, "Oh girl, she went to be with Jesus." And then I cried. Right there in the middle of the stupid cafeteria. She hugged on me and said, "I am so sorry, I'll leave you alone." Crap. I didn't want her to leave me alone, I didn't need to be alone. I just needed to cry for a minute.
At that point my territory manager meandered into the cafeteria and sat down with us. I was finished with my moment of tears and I told her, "Okay I'm done this week. Can I just not go to anymore 'new' hospitals this week?" And she said, "Of course, whatever you need."
But my plans never really work out the way I think they should.
Monday, November 18, 2013
The hits just keep comin'
11.18.13
Monday morning I headed out to a suburb of Dallas where I hadn't been to the accounts yet. I was excited because I was going to get to work with some new docs, but then I also dreaded it because some of the docs who knew me pregnant would also be there.
I walked into the lab that morning and the first question came from Doc 1. He said, "Hey! You have a baby now, right?" To which I replied, "No, she didn't make it." And then I got the pity look. About 15 minutes later, Doc 2 who happens to be partners with Doc 1 came up and said, "Hey! Didn't you have a baby?!" to which I replied, "Yes sir, but she didn't make it." Again with the pity look.
I was working with my territory manager that day, and she pulled me out in the hallway to make sure I was ok. Kate had told me that if I got in a conversation that was too much to just look at the person and say, "I am so sorry but I have an appointment I completely forgot about." and go to my car and cry. Kate said, "Its not technically a lie. You just had an appointment with yourself in the car." Oh that clever counselor.
Anyways, my manager asked me if I needed to go have an appointment and I told her it was okay because I had gotten myself hyped up a little to go into this account. A few hours later, I saw one of my favorite doctors who works up in the boondocks. We had bonded pretty quickly after we met because he was serving in Iraq when I first moved to Dallas and once you have that military bond with people they tend to stay in your life. He rubbed on my upper arm and said, "I was completely heartbroken when I heard what happened." That almost got me. I felt the tears well up and I started to sniff a little bit to try to keep them from rolling down my face. "Let me know if I can do anything, and you and Alex need to come over one night for dinner." It was the sweetest thing ever and I appreciated him for being so genuinely caring.
That afternoon I went and talked to Kate. For the first time in a while, the first thing I did when I sat down on her couch was break down crying. I told her that today had just been a bad day. I can do okay in the moment, but after I get to a safe place I pretty much just break down and cry because it is so hard not to cry every minute. It stinks. I told her that I was proud of myself for not breaking down right then and there, and she asked me why I thought that not breaking down was such a good thing. Its mostly because I have never been allowed to break down and cry at my job. It is seen as a weakness, and then people start treating you with kid gloves. Even through both of Alex's deployments, I only cried at work twice before this and it had nothing to do with my personal life. Being so transparent and vulnerable is foreign to me and I don't quite know how to cope with it.
I told Kate some stories about other people and how their reactions to what had happened mattered to me. I told her about caring how other people were dealing with the pain, and I would somewhat check on people to make sure that they were doing ok. At this point, Kate asked me point blank, "Have you ever heard the term codependency?" Excuse me, Kate? What? "Codependency has many faces, and one of them is being so outwardly focused that you don't take time to feel what you need to feel." I beg your pardon. I am little miss independent. I don't need anyone else to help me grieve.
Or did I? Her words resonated with me over the next week. I hadn't been aware of it before, but I started to realize that I had been checking on everyone else and not really slowing down enough to feel what was happening. The world was moving on, but I was trying to drag everyone else back and make sure they were really ok. I mean, how could they be? This is a huge loss to everyone, not just me, right?
Maybe. Or maybe I was trying to substitute my own grief with the maternal instinct to look after everyone else. If I was so busy checking on everyone, this wouldn't be real. I could essentially suspend time just a little bit longer to make the time I had with Kaitlyn seem not so distant. I could get people to talk to me about what they were going through instead of actually dealing with what I was going through. And I hated it that she was right about it.
Monday morning I headed out to a suburb of Dallas where I hadn't been to the accounts yet. I was excited because I was going to get to work with some new docs, but then I also dreaded it because some of the docs who knew me pregnant would also be there.
I walked into the lab that morning and the first question came from Doc 1. He said, "Hey! You have a baby now, right?" To which I replied, "No, she didn't make it." And then I got the pity look. About 15 minutes later, Doc 2 who happens to be partners with Doc 1 came up and said, "Hey! Didn't you have a baby?!" to which I replied, "Yes sir, but she didn't make it." Again with the pity look.
I was working with my territory manager that day, and she pulled me out in the hallway to make sure I was ok. Kate had told me that if I got in a conversation that was too much to just look at the person and say, "I am so sorry but I have an appointment I completely forgot about." and go to my car and cry. Kate said, "Its not technically a lie. You just had an appointment with yourself in the car." Oh that clever counselor.
Anyways, my manager asked me if I needed to go have an appointment and I told her it was okay because I had gotten myself hyped up a little to go into this account. A few hours later, I saw one of my favorite doctors who works up in the boondocks. We had bonded pretty quickly after we met because he was serving in Iraq when I first moved to Dallas and once you have that military bond with people they tend to stay in your life. He rubbed on my upper arm and said, "I was completely heartbroken when I heard what happened." That almost got me. I felt the tears well up and I started to sniff a little bit to try to keep them from rolling down my face. "Let me know if I can do anything, and you and Alex need to come over one night for dinner." It was the sweetest thing ever and I appreciated him for being so genuinely caring.
That afternoon I went and talked to Kate. For the first time in a while, the first thing I did when I sat down on her couch was break down crying. I told her that today had just been a bad day. I can do okay in the moment, but after I get to a safe place I pretty much just break down and cry because it is so hard not to cry every minute. It stinks. I told her that I was proud of myself for not breaking down right then and there, and she asked me why I thought that not breaking down was such a good thing. Its mostly because I have never been allowed to break down and cry at my job. It is seen as a weakness, and then people start treating you with kid gloves. Even through both of Alex's deployments, I only cried at work twice before this and it had nothing to do with my personal life. Being so transparent and vulnerable is foreign to me and I don't quite know how to cope with it.
I told Kate some stories about other people and how their reactions to what had happened mattered to me. I told her about caring how other people were dealing with the pain, and I would somewhat check on people to make sure that they were doing ok. At this point, Kate asked me point blank, "Have you ever heard the term codependency?" Excuse me, Kate? What? "Codependency has many faces, and one of them is being so outwardly focused that you don't take time to feel what you need to feel." I beg your pardon. I am little miss independent. I don't need anyone else to help me grieve.
Or did I? Her words resonated with me over the next week. I hadn't been aware of it before, but I started to realize that I had been checking on everyone else and not really slowing down enough to feel what was happening. The world was moving on, but I was trying to drag everyone else back and make sure they were really ok. I mean, how could they be? This is a huge loss to everyone, not just me, right?
Maybe. Or maybe I was trying to substitute my own grief with the maternal instinct to look after everyone else. If I was so busy checking on everyone, this wouldn't be real. I could essentially suspend time just a little bit longer to make the time I had with Kaitlyn seem not so distant. I could get people to talk to me about what they were going through instead of actually dealing with what I was going through. And I hated it that she was right about it.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
One way or another
We have had a lot of friend that have commented on our faith over the last two months. One of the things that pastor John said during K's memorial service that when people are in the midst of a crisis, they tend to either go towards God or away from God. Alex and I have, obviously, both run with our heads down towards God and lean on him completely during our rough times. But Kaitlyn's life didn't just affect us, it affected everyone we have come to know in Dallas over the last five years.
We have a friend that reciently got married and her husband has, unfortunately, turned away from his faith and instead declared that God does not exist. How could such a loving God allow something like this to happen to Alex and I? We haven't done anything so severe that would deserve us to lose a child, surely... But karma always comes back around, doesn't it?
Alex and I sat down one night to have a conversation with this couple and we wound up talking about religion. I commented to one of my coworkers that these kinds of conversations are inevitable, and she questioned me back with, "Why? They don't have to be." Well, I suppose I could dodge questions and just say blanket statements, but that isn't being true to my faith or to Christ or to Kaitlyn, for that matter. So I would rather engage in these conversations and be transparent with our struggles and triumphs than hide behind vague acceptance of everything controversial.
The conversation I had with the husband of a friend (I am going to refrain from using his name publicly to protect both his and her privacy) ended with a conversation about Kaitlyn. He said that he believes that if God really existed he would have saved her and allowed her to live a long, healthy life where she would have touched millions of people with her witness and story. My response to that is maybe, maybe not. Each of us is put here on earth with the divine right of free will, so my daughter would have gotten to the age where she was accountable for her actions (knowing what sin is) and had a choice to make. Because of Alex and I, I fully believe that my daughter would have been a believer at perhaps and early age, but I don't think for a second that she would have been immune to the temptations and doubts of this world. Kaitlyn may have grown up to be an amazing missionary or world wide author or speaker for ministries, but God didn't author those things for her life. Her life was meant to come and go in exactly the time and manner in which it did. She was here for exactly the number of days she was suppose to be, and she left exactly at the time she was suppose to. Would I have chosen this road for myself if I had been given the choice? Absolutely not. But at the same time, I am reminded that God's plan is bigger, broader, wider, and greater than any plan that I could ever have come up with. Kaitlyn may have grown up to be someone who influenced millions of people through just breathing, but I truly and honestly believe that her story is not done echoing in our lives and she will touch more people the way she is now than she perhaps could have if she had lived.
We have a friend that reciently got married and her husband has, unfortunately, turned away from his faith and instead declared that God does not exist. How could such a loving God allow something like this to happen to Alex and I? We haven't done anything so severe that would deserve us to lose a child, surely... But karma always comes back around, doesn't it?
Alex and I sat down one night to have a conversation with this couple and we wound up talking about religion. I commented to one of my coworkers that these kinds of conversations are inevitable, and she questioned me back with, "Why? They don't have to be." Well, I suppose I could dodge questions and just say blanket statements, but that isn't being true to my faith or to Christ or to Kaitlyn, for that matter. So I would rather engage in these conversations and be transparent with our struggles and triumphs than hide behind vague acceptance of everything controversial.
The conversation I had with the husband of a friend (I am going to refrain from using his name publicly to protect both his and her privacy) ended with a conversation about Kaitlyn. He said that he believes that if God really existed he would have saved her and allowed her to live a long, healthy life where she would have touched millions of people with her witness and story. My response to that is maybe, maybe not. Each of us is put here on earth with the divine right of free will, so my daughter would have gotten to the age where she was accountable for her actions (knowing what sin is) and had a choice to make. Because of Alex and I, I fully believe that my daughter would have been a believer at perhaps and early age, but I don't think for a second that she would have been immune to the temptations and doubts of this world. Kaitlyn may have grown up to be an amazing missionary or world wide author or speaker for ministries, but God didn't author those things for her life. Her life was meant to come and go in exactly the time and manner in which it did. She was here for exactly the number of days she was suppose to be, and she left exactly at the time she was suppose to. Would I have chosen this road for myself if I had been given the choice? Absolutely not. But at the same time, I am reminded that God's plan is bigger, broader, wider, and greater than any plan that I could ever have come up with. Kaitlyn may have grown up to be someone who influenced millions of people through just breathing, but I truly and honestly believe that her story is not done echoing in our lives and she will touch more people the way she is now than she perhaps could have if she had lived.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
The Arrival of Sir William
11.14.13
My next oldest cousin got pregnant about 8 weeks after we did. Sam and her husband had been trying to get pregnant for the last year, but they had kept their struggles private and announced their pregnancy in mid-March. Sam worked as a NICU nurse in Houston, and she had seen a lot of babies filter through with various illnesses and defects that would not allow them to have a full life. But, of course, its different when its a family member that loses their child.
Sam had talked to her OB and decided that they would deliver her little boy in week 39 by induction. I hadn't talked to Sam a whole lot over the past few weeks, mostly because I knew she was very anxious about her own birth and that talking to me probably wouldn't have helped that anxiety.
The morning that she went in to be induced I was working at one of my not-so-frequent hospitals with a doc I work with maybe once a week or once every other week. He knew what had happened, and when he saw me he gave me the saddest look and asked how I was doing.
My mom had decided to not text me updates with Sam until I asked for them. Things went a little funny in our case and we had a delay, so I texted her around 9 AM to see what was going on. I knew that Sam was going into the hospital at 7 for her induction. My mom replied that Sam was asked to come back later because they were having a lot of emergency births at that time and couldn't get her set up for a voluntary induction.
I lost it. I. lost. it. I excused myself from the case and walked down the hallway where there were these large windows that look outside. The doc had taken a minute to go see another patient and I passed him in the hallway with tears streaming down my face. "Are you ok?!" he asked. I just replied with, "My cousin is having her baby today..." and he said, "Take all the time you need." Thank you for grace!
The hospital is laid out in a figure 8, and I made it around one of the loops before I figured out that walking was not going to make the tears stop coming and I needed to just give in to it. Luckily, I knew this hospital well enough to know where the one-holer bathrooms were so I snuck over there and locked myself in. I let the emotions overcome me for a minute. I just sat and cried because I didn't want this to happen to my cousin. Not that I thought that anything was wrong with her baby, I just didn't want her to be going through the anxiety I knew she was going through. Why couldn't they just let her hook herself up and watch his heart rate?! Her sister was a Labor and Delivery nurse, for pete's sake! Just let them borrow the monitors so we know he is ok!
After I got done crying, I looked at myself in the mirror (waterproof mascara rocks, just a little red and swollen around the eyes... can't help that at all) and washed my hands to give me something to do. Then I headed back out to the case.
Later that afternoon, I decided to make my first trip back to the hospital we delivered at as a representative of my company. At this hospital, everytime a baby is born they play a little lullaby over the loud speaker for everyone to hear. Naturally, I walked in and within about 5 minutes that song started playing. I had cried so much that morning that it didn't make me cry, but I did get the pit in my stomach with the memories of of how excited I was to hear that song played on September 18.
I walked in the lab and had the same reaction from everyone, "How are you?" "We're glad to see you" "I am so sorry that happened to you". I walked into the room where they were doing a case with another one of the docs I work with, and they were just finishing up so everyone was standing around watching the patients EKG. One of the CRNAs at this hospital is named Dawn, and I had gotten to know her pretty well over the last five years. She has a daughter of her own, and we had talked about our faiths as her daughter wanted to go into the peace corps and serve in Africa. After I had said hello to the doc and all the lab staff, I went over and got a hug from miss Dawn. She is so pretty, she has green eyes and long mid-back red hair. Probably some kind of Irish, because she can be fiery, too.
One of the lab staff's name is Gary, and Gary and his wife had just given birth at this hospital about 2 years ago. When they did, Dawn had recommended that they request one specific nurse that she knew very well to help them with labor. In the last few months of my pregnancy, I asked Gary a lot of questions and Dawn gave me the name of the nurse she had recommended to Gary. Somehow in my pregnancy brain, I had written down "Dawn Lastname" in my phone instead of the correct first name. (I won't disclose her last name here just because I haven't ever told her that I am writing about her and I don't want to be disrespectful of her privacy.) Anyways, on the day I returned to that lab for the first time I pulled Dawn aside and asked her about the name that she gave me for the nurse because I knew I didn't have it right. "Her name is Gail." she replied. Oh. My. Gosh. Gail was my nurse! She was the one that was training the younger girl in the prep area and she was one of the first to look for Kaitlyn's heartbeat. I told Dawn that Gail had helped us, and Dawn's eyes started to brim with tears as she said, "I prayed for you that morning." God is so awesome that even when we are too fragile to remember a simple thing like a name, He gives us exactly what we need.
After I was done at that hospital, I went and sat with one of my coworkers at a coffee shop to catch up on all the progress we had made from a sales standpoint. When we got done talking about that, he asked how I was doing with everything. At this point, I had texted Sam's sisters for updates a few times and finally gotten to the point where Ash said, "We will keep you updated." Which is the nice way of saying, "Please stop bugging me, you're making it worse." So I left it alone. It was about 4:00 in the afternoon at this point and I was trying not to freak out again. I shared with my coworker Mike everything that was going on with Sam and I remember I shook my phone a little bit in frustration as I was saying, "Just get him out! Just go for a c-section and get him out! Ugh!" (If you haven't figured this out yet, I am a bit of a control freak.) Mike had asked me if I had gotten the book that he had sent up while we were still in the hospital after Kaitlyn. He and his wife had gotten a book called You'll get through this by Max Lucado. I am a huge Max Lucado fan, but I haven't even cracked that book yet. I think we got about 10 books from various friends and family members and I haven't read a single one yet. Anyways, I did tell Mike that we got it and I thanked him for it, and I teased him about not coming up to see us (its literally one flight of stairs from where we work to where Alex and I were). He turned a little red and said, "I'm sorry, I just didn't know how to deal with that." Mike has four kids of his own, and I have to tell you I fell a little guilty for razzing him and making him feel bad. I just shrugged at his embarrassment and told him, "Nobody knew how to deal with it. Its ok."
I had wasted as much time as possible with work that day and finally decided to head home around 5. I hadn't heard any updates about Sam, and I was still trying to control myself and not freak out. I called my Mom and she said the same thing; that she had not heard any updates from her sister, Sam's mom. I got home, tried to eat something for dinner, and started writing. I tend to write when I get overwhelmed or when I just need to get some details down on paper.
Around 6pm I got the text from Ash and all it said was, "Pushing now." I lost it again. I went and sat in Kaitlyn's rocker and just sobbed. There were so many emotions about the safety of my cousin and her baby, but also a deep, deep sorrow that my birth story wasn't more like hers. I had planned to go all-natural with miss K, not getting an epidural or anything and pushing her out naturally like an aborigine. Of course, I knew 3 weeks out that I was not going to be able to do things my way just because my little miss stubborn was breech. I wanted Sam to get him out as soon as possible, and it had already been so long that I was just a wreck of emotions. It felt like it took f.o.r.e.v.e.r. for me to get the text from Ash that he was finally out. Realistically, I think Sam only pushed for about 30 minutes, but they didn't text me until about an hour later. I was so relieved that everyone was ok. Ash asked if I wanted a picture of my new nephew, and I responded that I would. William Glen came out with a full head of hair just like his cousin, and he was absolutely beautiful. The picture I got had him with his little hat on his head and his skin bright pink because he was so new to the world. I cried over that picture. I wanted a picture of my girl looking angry for being removed from her comfy place of growth inside me. I wanted to be able to hold my girl one more time. Above all, I wanted to hear my daughter's voice. I wanted to feel her rib cage expand as she got ready to let forth a wail into the world, her opening speech for things to come. I missed my daughter, but I also had a joy that God had kept his promise that this would not happen to our family again. Those dualing emotions on complete opposite ends of the scale just exhausted me. I decided it was time to call it a night early, and I cried a little as I fell asleep that night.
My next oldest cousin got pregnant about 8 weeks after we did. Sam and her husband had been trying to get pregnant for the last year, but they had kept their struggles private and announced their pregnancy in mid-March. Sam worked as a NICU nurse in Houston, and she had seen a lot of babies filter through with various illnesses and defects that would not allow them to have a full life. But, of course, its different when its a family member that loses their child.
Sam had talked to her OB and decided that they would deliver her little boy in week 39 by induction. I hadn't talked to Sam a whole lot over the past few weeks, mostly because I knew she was very anxious about her own birth and that talking to me probably wouldn't have helped that anxiety.
The morning that she went in to be induced I was working at one of my not-so-frequent hospitals with a doc I work with maybe once a week or once every other week. He knew what had happened, and when he saw me he gave me the saddest look and asked how I was doing.
My mom had decided to not text me updates with Sam until I asked for them. Things went a little funny in our case and we had a delay, so I texted her around 9 AM to see what was going on. I knew that Sam was going into the hospital at 7 for her induction. My mom replied that Sam was asked to come back later because they were having a lot of emergency births at that time and couldn't get her set up for a voluntary induction.
I lost it. I. lost. it. I excused myself from the case and walked down the hallway where there were these large windows that look outside. The doc had taken a minute to go see another patient and I passed him in the hallway with tears streaming down my face. "Are you ok?!" he asked. I just replied with, "My cousin is having her baby today..." and he said, "Take all the time you need." Thank you for grace!
The hospital is laid out in a figure 8, and I made it around one of the loops before I figured out that walking was not going to make the tears stop coming and I needed to just give in to it. Luckily, I knew this hospital well enough to know where the one-holer bathrooms were so I snuck over there and locked myself in. I let the emotions overcome me for a minute. I just sat and cried because I didn't want this to happen to my cousin. Not that I thought that anything was wrong with her baby, I just didn't want her to be going through the anxiety I knew she was going through. Why couldn't they just let her hook herself up and watch his heart rate?! Her sister was a Labor and Delivery nurse, for pete's sake! Just let them borrow the monitors so we know he is ok!
After I got done crying, I looked at myself in the mirror (waterproof mascara rocks, just a little red and swollen around the eyes... can't help that at all) and washed my hands to give me something to do. Then I headed back out to the case.
Later that afternoon, I decided to make my first trip back to the hospital we delivered at as a representative of my company. At this hospital, everytime a baby is born they play a little lullaby over the loud speaker for everyone to hear. Naturally, I walked in and within about 5 minutes that song started playing. I had cried so much that morning that it didn't make me cry, but I did get the pit in my stomach with the memories of of how excited I was to hear that song played on September 18.
I walked in the lab and had the same reaction from everyone, "How are you?" "We're glad to see you" "I am so sorry that happened to you". I walked into the room where they were doing a case with another one of the docs I work with, and they were just finishing up so everyone was standing around watching the patients EKG. One of the CRNAs at this hospital is named Dawn, and I had gotten to know her pretty well over the last five years. She has a daughter of her own, and we had talked about our faiths as her daughter wanted to go into the peace corps and serve in Africa. After I had said hello to the doc and all the lab staff, I went over and got a hug from miss Dawn. She is so pretty, she has green eyes and long mid-back red hair. Probably some kind of Irish, because she can be fiery, too.
One of the lab staff's name is Gary, and Gary and his wife had just given birth at this hospital about 2 years ago. When they did, Dawn had recommended that they request one specific nurse that she knew very well to help them with labor. In the last few months of my pregnancy, I asked Gary a lot of questions and Dawn gave me the name of the nurse she had recommended to Gary. Somehow in my pregnancy brain, I had written down "Dawn Lastname" in my phone instead of the correct first name. (I won't disclose her last name here just because I haven't ever told her that I am writing about her and I don't want to be disrespectful of her privacy.) Anyways, on the day I returned to that lab for the first time I pulled Dawn aside and asked her about the name that she gave me for the nurse because I knew I didn't have it right. "Her name is Gail." she replied. Oh. My. Gosh. Gail was my nurse! She was the one that was training the younger girl in the prep area and she was one of the first to look for Kaitlyn's heartbeat. I told Dawn that Gail had helped us, and Dawn's eyes started to brim with tears as she said, "I prayed for you that morning." God is so awesome that even when we are too fragile to remember a simple thing like a name, He gives us exactly what we need.
After I was done at that hospital, I went and sat with one of my coworkers at a coffee shop to catch up on all the progress we had made from a sales standpoint. When we got done talking about that, he asked how I was doing with everything. At this point, I had texted Sam's sisters for updates a few times and finally gotten to the point where Ash said, "We will keep you updated." Which is the nice way of saying, "Please stop bugging me, you're making it worse." So I left it alone. It was about 4:00 in the afternoon at this point and I was trying not to freak out again. I shared with my coworker Mike everything that was going on with Sam and I remember I shook my phone a little bit in frustration as I was saying, "Just get him out! Just go for a c-section and get him out! Ugh!" (If you haven't figured this out yet, I am a bit of a control freak.) Mike had asked me if I had gotten the book that he had sent up while we were still in the hospital after Kaitlyn. He and his wife had gotten a book called You'll get through this by Max Lucado. I am a huge Max Lucado fan, but I haven't even cracked that book yet. I think we got about 10 books from various friends and family members and I haven't read a single one yet. Anyways, I did tell Mike that we got it and I thanked him for it, and I teased him about not coming up to see us (its literally one flight of stairs from where we work to where Alex and I were). He turned a little red and said, "I'm sorry, I just didn't know how to deal with that." Mike has four kids of his own, and I have to tell you I fell a little guilty for razzing him and making him feel bad. I just shrugged at his embarrassment and told him, "Nobody knew how to deal with it. Its ok."
I had wasted as much time as possible with work that day and finally decided to head home around 5. I hadn't heard any updates about Sam, and I was still trying to control myself and not freak out. I called my Mom and she said the same thing; that she had not heard any updates from her sister, Sam's mom. I got home, tried to eat something for dinner, and started writing. I tend to write when I get overwhelmed or when I just need to get some details down on paper.
Around 6pm I got the text from Ash and all it said was, "Pushing now." I lost it again. I went and sat in Kaitlyn's rocker and just sobbed. There were so many emotions about the safety of my cousin and her baby, but also a deep, deep sorrow that my birth story wasn't more like hers. I had planned to go all-natural with miss K, not getting an epidural or anything and pushing her out naturally like an aborigine. Of course, I knew 3 weeks out that I was not going to be able to do things my way just because my little miss stubborn was breech. I wanted Sam to get him out as soon as possible, and it had already been so long that I was just a wreck of emotions. It felt like it took f.o.r.e.v.e.r. for me to get the text from Ash that he was finally out. Realistically, I think Sam only pushed for about 30 minutes, but they didn't text me until about an hour later. I was so relieved that everyone was ok. Ash asked if I wanted a picture of my new nephew, and I responded that I would. William Glen came out with a full head of hair just like his cousin, and he was absolutely beautiful. The picture I got had him with his little hat on his head and his skin bright pink because he was so new to the world. I cried over that picture. I wanted a picture of my girl looking angry for being removed from her comfy place of growth inside me. I wanted to be able to hold my girl one more time. Above all, I wanted to hear my daughter's voice. I wanted to feel her rib cage expand as she got ready to let forth a wail into the world, her opening speech for things to come. I missed my daughter, but I also had a joy that God had kept his promise that this would not happen to our family again. Those dualing emotions on complete opposite ends of the scale just exhausted me. I decided it was time to call it a night early, and I cried a little as I fell asleep that night.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
First day back at work
11.13.13
I wish I could tell you it all stuck. I wish I could tell you I woke up and felt zero anxiety and nothing but confidence and courage. But I would be lying to you. And for those of you who read this and are going through a similar situation, I want you to know that riding the waves of mourning is normal.
I woke up the next morning scared witless. I didn't want to go back to work. I didn't want to get back into the routine. I was scared that I wouldn't have time to write and get my emotions out. I was worried about how tired I was going to be, and how I was going to be able to handle the questions and comments. I cried when I put on my makeup. I knew I was going to wear waterproof mascara anyways, but I had a hard time even getting it on. My stomach was in knots and I didn't know if I would be able to keep anything down or not.
On Tuesday, I had written out verses to help me get my mind ready for the questions of faith. I had written out one more notecard and taped it to the back door at eye level. It read:
I wish I could tell you it all stuck. I wish I could tell you I woke up and felt zero anxiety and nothing but confidence and courage. But I would be lying to you. And for those of you who read this and are going through a similar situation, I want you to know that riding the waves of mourning is normal.
I woke up the next morning scared witless. I didn't want to go back to work. I didn't want to get back into the routine. I was scared that I wouldn't have time to write and get my emotions out. I was worried about how tired I was going to be, and how I was going to be able to handle the questions and comments. I cried when I put on my makeup. I knew I was going to wear waterproof mascara anyways, but I had a hard time even getting it on. My stomach was in knots and I didn't know if I would be able to keep anything down or not.
On Tuesday, I had written out verses to help me get my mind ready for the questions of faith. I had written out one more notecard and taped it to the back door at eye level. It read:
"For the spirit God age us does not make us timid,
but gives us power, love, and self-discipline."
2 Timothy 1:7
Let it start in the circle.
The last sentence was a reference to Pricilla Shirer's Gideon study. The first video that I watched ended with her saying that if we want to be courageous, we have to start with ourselves. She had drawn a line on the floor of the stage she was leading from and said, "It has to start in the circle." I stared at that card for a good minute before I could force myself to leave the house. It was one step at a time.
You may think I am being dramatic, but I promise you I am not. I was seriously in a bad place because I was allowing my fear of what it was going to be like to cripple me. I'm not proud of it, but I need to be real. I need to be honest with my lack of courage.
I pulled into the garage at the hospital where I have spend 90% of my time for the last five years. These were the people who loved me enough to come show their support on a Saturday for me and Alex. I was excited and terrified to see them. I thought it was going to be impossible for me to see everyone and not be brought back to the place I was when we had the memorial service. Kate had warned me to be sure to give myself grace, and to plan on pizza and pjs when I got done with work. I read through my notecards one more time before getting out of the car.
The hospital has a valet and the guy who is usually there is named Bennie. I've seen Bennie read his Bible and do different devotionals during down time, and sometimes I've caught him with his eyes closed praying. We have exchanged the usual "hi" and "bye" and on occasion I would ask him what book he is reading and if he liked it. As I walked into the building, Bennie said, "Well hey, Amy! How is everyone? Baby doing ok?" God bless America. I stopped dead in my tracks and waited. My programmed response wasn't in my head, but I was able to get out, "She didn't make it." And Bennie got the horrified look on his face and said, "Oh I'm so sorry." "Its okay," I replied as I continued on in the building.
I had done some recon work on Tuesday night, and David had told me that he was going to be at the same hospital that day. I found him in the waiting area of the lab I visit and I told him playfully, "Dang it, I can't even get in the building on the first day back without getting the question." David's eyes got big and he said, "Who said something already?" "Bennie", I replied. "Bennie never says more than three words to anyone! What the heck?!" David responded with shock. I just laughed at him because David is sometimes a little oblivious to everyone around him.
I started the rounds of seeing all of the nurses. Most of them said, "Its really good to see you back." and that was it. It was a tremendous relief to not have people giving me sad eyes or to have people asking questions. I found out later that one of my coworkers had sat down with the lab manager and drafted an email to all the employees asking that they not ask questions and that something great to say to me was, "We're glad to have you back." I am so incredibly thankful for their sensitivity to my emotional state, and I am glad to say that even though I started out rocky, I was able to make it through the day and not cry. I hate crying in front of people (even though every single one of these people had seen me sob at the memorial service). That first day was full of grace and mercy, but there were still some mountains for me to climb in the coming days.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Anxiety Part I
11.12.13
About 9pm on Tuesday I was a complete wreck. I didn't want to go back to work. I didn't want to have to face everyone again. I wanted to continue to live in my bubble of the house and my daily routine of nothingness. I had spent time in the nursery again that day, and I had put pressure on myself to put some of K's things away. I went and sat in the rocker and rocked for about an hour, just thinking about everything that was about to happen.
I had spent some time in the Word that day getting prepped for the next morning. I had my notecards of verses written out on neon 3 by 5s. I still felt anxious. I know I'm not suppose to be anxious, but I am being honest here.
I decided to try to wind down by reading some more in the Girls with Swords book by Lisa Bevere. There is an entire chapter in this book titled, "You might be a hero", and one of the quotes that Lisa cites is:
About 9pm on Tuesday I was a complete wreck. I didn't want to go back to work. I didn't want to have to face everyone again. I wanted to continue to live in my bubble of the house and my daily routine of nothingness. I had spent time in the nursery again that day, and I had put pressure on myself to put some of K's things away. I went and sat in the rocker and rocked for about an hour, just thinking about everything that was about to happen.
I had spent some time in the Word that day getting prepped for the next morning. I had my notecards of verses written out on neon 3 by 5s. I still felt anxious. I know I'm not suppose to be anxious, but I am being honest here.
I decided to try to wind down by reading some more in the Girls with Swords book by Lisa Bevere. There is an entire chapter in this book titled, "You might be a hero", and one of the quotes that Lisa cites is:
We can be in our day what the heroes of faith were in their day-
But remember, at the time they didn't know they were heroes.
A.W. Tozer
Okay, I feel a little bolder. I continued reading. Later, Lisa says, "Heroes are always brave, but don't imagine that always brave translates into never afraid." Oh my! Okay. Feeling bolder! Lisa wrote one more time (specifically to me, if you didn't know) "It seems right now a nightmare obscures our Lord's most worthwhile and glorious dream." OKAY! I got it! I am a courageous hero warrior of God and I don't need to be afraid because this is all part of God's plan! Got it!
I was able to fall asleep and sleep somewhat well with the confidence that God had given me through his word and through Lisa's book. I was able to have peace as I drifted off to sleep.
The Story of David
11.12.13
On Tuesday I had a conversation with one of the missionaries from my church about going back to work. Chris and Brandi live in Kenya and three years ago I went on a trip for about a week to serve with them (this is where I know Charlie and Becky from that came to the hospital). Brandi was a pediatric nurse before she and Chris decided to move to Kenya.
One of the most helpful things that Brandi told me was to take some verses out of the Bible and keep them ready to explain to people what I believe and why I believe it. I know what I believe, but I had a hard time putting the logistical/rational side into words, so I thought this was extremely helpful.
The verses I liked about Jesus came from Matthew 18:2-4, Mark 10:13-16, and Romans 5:5.
And then I stumbled on the story of David. I grew up in the church, but somehow the story of David losing his child was not one of the stories that stuck with me, until now.
2 Samuel 12 starting in verse 15 (This is in the New Living Translation, just because its easy to read)
We could stop there. Just the fact that this is in the Bible and that I stumbled upon it during this period of my life is awesome. But the story continues:
20 Then David got up from the ground, washed himself, put on lotions,[b] and changed his clothes. He went to the Tabernacle and worshiped the Lord. After that, he returned to the palace and was served food and ate.
Again, we could stop here. Here we have the story of one of the great Kings of Israel and somebody everyone knows suffering the loss of a child and his response to the Lord when his child is gone.
A friend recently argued with me that the Bible is not timeless. Oh dear friend, I beg to differ. Here we are 2000+ years after the time of David and his story is speaking to me. His actions are showing Alex and I how to worship after sorrow.
And we could stop here. But the story goes on:
BLESSED. Good gracious our God is amazing. For this story to be kept in the sacred word of God to provide such comfort for those of us who have lost a child. For King David's words and actions to line up as such a marvelous example of who we are called to be. I love his response to his advisers, who were wise men. I love that he flat out calls it in such a blatant way. I love it that the second part of verse 23 has so many meanings. It means David could physically go to be with his son, but his son was not there. It means that he will go to Heaven spiritually, but his son will not return to earth.
We could stop there, but again, the story continues.
Oh the promises of God! Even though David and Bathsheba had lost their first child, God used them to create another being that would go down in history books as one of the most loving and wise kings of Israel. I couldn't believe that I didn't remember this story from all those years of Sunday school! That is amazing to me. God was waiting to show me this story at this exact moment in this exact period of my life. What a phenomenal God we serve, and what a promise to hold tight to.
On Tuesday I had a conversation with one of the missionaries from my church about going back to work. Chris and Brandi live in Kenya and three years ago I went on a trip for about a week to serve with them (this is where I know Charlie and Becky from that came to the hospital). Brandi was a pediatric nurse before she and Chris decided to move to Kenya.
One of the most helpful things that Brandi told me was to take some verses out of the Bible and keep them ready to explain to people what I believe and why I believe it. I know what I believe, but I had a hard time putting the logistical/rational side into words, so I thought this was extremely helpful.
The verses I liked about Jesus came from Matthew 18:2-4, Mark 10:13-16, and Romans 5:5.
And then I stumbled on the story of David. I grew up in the church, but somehow the story of David losing his child was not one of the stories that stuck with me, until now.
2 Samuel 12 starting in verse 15 (This is in the New Living Translation, just because its easy to read)
15 After Nathan returned to his home, the Lord sent a deadly illness to the child of David and Uriah’s wife. 16 David begged God to spare the child. He went without food and lay all night on the bare ground. 17 The elders of his household pleaded with him to get up and eat with them, but he refused.
18 Then on the seventh day the child died. David’s advisers were afraid to tell him. “He wouldn’t listen to reason while the child was ill,” they said. “What drastic thing will he do when we tell him the child is dead?”
19 When David saw them whispering, he realized what had happened. “Is the child dead?” he asked.
“Yes,” they replied, “he is dead.”
20 Then David got up from the ground, washed himself, put on lotions,[b] and changed his clothes. He went to the Tabernacle and worshiped the Lord. After that, he returned to the palace and was served food and ate.
Again, we could stop here. Here we have the story of one of the great Kings of Israel and somebody everyone knows suffering the loss of a child and his response to the Lord when his child is gone.
A friend recently argued with me that the Bible is not timeless. Oh dear friend, I beg to differ. Here we are 2000+ years after the time of David and his story is speaking to me. His actions are showing Alex and I how to worship after sorrow.
And we could stop here. But the story goes on:
21 His advisers were amazed. “We don’t understand you,” they told him. “While the child was still living, you wept and refused to eat. But now that the child is dead, you have stopped your mourning and are eating again.”
22 David replied, “I fasted and wept while the child was alive, for I said, ‘Perhaps the Lord will be gracious to me and let the child live.’ 23 But why should I fast when he is dead? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him one day, but he cannot return to me.”
We could stop there, but again, the story continues.
24 Then David comforted Bathsheba, his wife, and slept with her. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son, and David[c] named him Solomon. The Lord loved the child 25 and sent word through Nathan the prophet that they should name him Jedidiah (which means “beloved of the Lord”), as theLord had commanded.[d]
Monday, November 11, 2013
Counseling
11.11.13
I had another counseling session with Kate on Monday, and I had booked an extended time with her because I had missed the last week. I could tell that I wanted the extra time because I felt like I had a lot to talk to her about. I needed to prep with her for my return to work on Wednesday, and I wanted her feedback on how the counseling session with Alex went.
I am chronically early everywhere I go, and I usually carry a book with me to read in the downtime between my arrival and my appointment. It physically pains me when I know I am going to be late to something, even something as trivial as a movie time (I like to see the previews!). Alex is pretty much the same way, which is definitely better than one of us always being chronically late.
I had started reading a book by Lisa Bevere called Girls with Swords: How to carry your cross like a hero. Lisa had come and talked at our church in February for the Fearless conference, and I was inspired by her direct commentary on spiritual warfare. The funny thing was, I had bought this book back then and had only made it through about the first ten pages when I decided that I needed to prioritize a little bit differently and read through pregnancy books instead of this one. Lisa had told us a little bit about the book during the conference, and she likened us to the character of Sarah Connor in The Terminator (I've never seen this movie, so I won't try to rehash it here. Hopefully you get the reference). The whole gist of Sarah's character is that time travelers from the future come back and have a battle over her life because she has such a powerful influence on the future. Lisa writes in her book how this is remarkably similar to how Satan treats the followers of Christ. She says, "He knows your potential and is systematically trying to undermine your future." Wow. She also goes on to say, "He [Satan] has a longstanding history of hatred toward women, and there is no surer way to wound a woman than to attack her children." Good gracious, this woman is speaking directly to me.
I put my book away as Kate called me up to her office. As usual, she slipped off her shoes and curled up in her chair by her desk and waited while I did the same on her couch. "So, how's it going?" she started. I always wonder where I'm suppose to start on these things, but inevitably the words just come tumbling out without much of a filter.
I started with Sam. I told her how anxious I was for Thursday to come for her, and how badly I had wanted to hop on a plan and go to Houston just so I could take her sweet face in my hands and look her directly in the eyes and tell her not to worry. "Did you ever think that maybe God is working on something in Sam right now and He is asking her to trust him?" she offered. Hmm. I didn't really know what to think about that. I suppose I would like to think that this story is all about me all of the time, but she was right in that even if I had gotten on the plane and gone down to Houston, Sam's story wouldn't have really been changed. She would still have been anxious and ready to meet her son.
We moved on and talked about my return to work. I was honestly ready to return to my job because I genuinely enjoy it, but at the same time I had a pit in my stomach when I thought about seeing everyone again. It would be 8 weeks to the day that I would return to work, and everyone there I hadn't seen since Kaitlyn's memorial service. I don't know that I was necessarily worried about people saying things, but it was more of worrying that everyone would remember where I was from the memorial service and assume that I was still in that place. I had done a lot of grieving over the last 8 weeks, and where I was in that initial week was a completely different place from where I was now. I didn't want people to hug me, or ask me how I was doing in the whispered tones. I just wanted to get back to work and not be stuck in the house anymore. I wanted a schedule and something to snap my mind out of all the emotional trauma it had been through. Kate recommended that I have my "tag line" such as, "we are doing as well as can be expected in the circumstances." I tried to have a program response, but it just felt fake. These people I was going back to work with are my family in Dallas. They have watched me grow and mature over the last 5 years, and I wanted to be genuine with them. They took the time to come and show Alex and I that they care; the least I could do is not disrespect that friendship by giving a pre-programmed response. I just knew that I wanted to get to work and get it over with, but at the same time was anxious about the transition.
There was a moment one morning when I was brushing my teeth where I had a sort of thought: a vision, if you will allow me to call it that. I was thinking about how much I miss Kaitlyn. I miss her every day, I miss the weight of her, I miss being able to play with her hair. I miss the dreams I had for her, of her, as a toddler, as a baby. I miss her nose and how much it looks like mine did when I was little. I wondered what her voice would have sounded like.
Kaitlyn was real. Nobody could ever deny that. But even though I grew Kaitlyn and knew her personality and had dreams of who she would become, I can't hold Kaitlyn right now. I can't see her, I can't touch her skin or smell her hair and tell her how much I love her. It is such incredibly exquisite pain to think about my daughter sometimes. Even as I sit and write this, I have tears rolling down my face.
But the vision I had was of Kaitlyn in heaven, in the spirit world. I know that my daughter was alive and well within me for nearly 39 weeks. I felt her kicks and barrel rolls (as I use to call them). I felt her bone rub against my own under my rib cage. But Kaitlyn isn't here. She went on to be with her true maker.
I wondered if the ache I have to hold my daughter is what God feels for non-believers. He knows every inch of their personality, just like I know Kaitlyn's. I can tell you what her favorite color would have been, and that she would have loved animals. Maybe she would have been a vet when she grew up. God knits every living being on this planet together in their mother's wombs. He designs each of us with different quirks and different talents. He knows us even before the world knows us. But when we commit that first sin with knowledge of doing wrong, we die to Him. "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." Romans 3:23. That doesn't make us any less real to Him, He aches for our presence. He wants our relationship to be restored.
There is nothing that I wouldn't do to have my daughter back in my arms. I would have gladly given my life to save hers. God created that choice in Jesus, and gave us the opportunity for restoration. What would it be like if my daughter suddenly cried from the other room? Would I not throw this computer off my lap and sprint to her side? I imagine what absolute joy I will feel when we are finally reunited in heaven, and I truly believe that my heavenly Father greeted Kaitlyn, will greet me, and has greeted every believer that has gone on before us the same way.
I had another counseling session with Kate on Monday, and I had booked an extended time with her because I had missed the last week. I could tell that I wanted the extra time because I felt like I had a lot to talk to her about. I needed to prep with her for my return to work on Wednesday, and I wanted her feedback on how the counseling session with Alex went.
I am chronically early everywhere I go, and I usually carry a book with me to read in the downtime between my arrival and my appointment. It physically pains me when I know I am going to be late to something, even something as trivial as a movie time (I like to see the previews!). Alex is pretty much the same way, which is definitely better than one of us always being chronically late.
I had started reading a book by Lisa Bevere called Girls with Swords: How to carry your cross like a hero. Lisa had come and talked at our church in February for the Fearless conference, and I was inspired by her direct commentary on spiritual warfare. The funny thing was, I had bought this book back then and had only made it through about the first ten pages when I decided that I needed to prioritize a little bit differently and read through pregnancy books instead of this one. Lisa had told us a little bit about the book during the conference, and she likened us to the character of Sarah Connor in The Terminator (I've never seen this movie, so I won't try to rehash it here. Hopefully you get the reference). The whole gist of Sarah's character is that time travelers from the future come back and have a battle over her life because she has such a powerful influence on the future. Lisa writes in her book how this is remarkably similar to how Satan treats the followers of Christ. She says, "He knows your potential and is systematically trying to undermine your future." Wow. She also goes on to say, "He [Satan] has a longstanding history of hatred toward women, and there is no surer way to wound a woman than to attack her children." Good gracious, this woman is speaking directly to me.
I put my book away as Kate called me up to her office. As usual, she slipped off her shoes and curled up in her chair by her desk and waited while I did the same on her couch. "So, how's it going?" she started. I always wonder where I'm suppose to start on these things, but inevitably the words just come tumbling out without much of a filter.
I started with Sam. I told her how anxious I was for Thursday to come for her, and how badly I had wanted to hop on a plan and go to Houston just so I could take her sweet face in my hands and look her directly in the eyes and tell her not to worry. "Did you ever think that maybe God is working on something in Sam right now and He is asking her to trust him?" she offered. Hmm. I didn't really know what to think about that. I suppose I would like to think that this story is all about me all of the time, but she was right in that even if I had gotten on the plane and gone down to Houston, Sam's story wouldn't have really been changed. She would still have been anxious and ready to meet her son.
We moved on and talked about my return to work. I was honestly ready to return to my job because I genuinely enjoy it, but at the same time I had a pit in my stomach when I thought about seeing everyone again. It would be 8 weeks to the day that I would return to work, and everyone there I hadn't seen since Kaitlyn's memorial service. I don't know that I was necessarily worried about people saying things, but it was more of worrying that everyone would remember where I was from the memorial service and assume that I was still in that place. I had done a lot of grieving over the last 8 weeks, and where I was in that initial week was a completely different place from where I was now. I didn't want people to hug me, or ask me how I was doing in the whispered tones. I just wanted to get back to work and not be stuck in the house anymore. I wanted a schedule and something to snap my mind out of all the emotional trauma it had been through. Kate recommended that I have my "tag line" such as, "we are doing as well as can be expected in the circumstances." I tried to have a program response, but it just felt fake. These people I was going back to work with are my family in Dallas. They have watched me grow and mature over the last 5 years, and I wanted to be genuine with them. They took the time to come and show Alex and I that they care; the least I could do is not disrespect that friendship by giving a pre-programmed response. I just knew that I wanted to get to work and get it over with, but at the same time was anxious about the transition.
There was a moment one morning when I was brushing my teeth where I had a sort of thought: a vision, if you will allow me to call it that. I was thinking about how much I miss Kaitlyn. I miss her every day, I miss the weight of her, I miss being able to play with her hair. I miss the dreams I had for her, of her, as a toddler, as a baby. I miss her nose and how much it looks like mine did when I was little. I wondered what her voice would have sounded like.
Kaitlyn was real. Nobody could ever deny that. But even though I grew Kaitlyn and knew her personality and had dreams of who she would become, I can't hold Kaitlyn right now. I can't see her, I can't touch her skin or smell her hair and tell her how much I love her. It is such incredibly exquisite pain to think about my daughter sometimes. Even as I sit and write this, I have tears rolling down my face.
But the vision I had was of Kaitlyn in heaven, in the spirit world. I know that my daughter was alive and well within me for nearly 39 weeks. I felt her kicks and barrel rolls (as I use to call them). I felt her bone rub against my own under my rib cage. But Kaitlyn isn't here. She went on to be with her true maker.
I wondered if the ache I have to hold my daughter is what God feels for non-believers. He knows every inch of their personality, just like I know Kaitlyn's. I can tell you what her favorite color would have been, and that she would have loved animals. Maybe she would have been a vet when she grew up. God knits every living being on this planet together in their mother's wombs. He designs each of us with different quirks and different talents. He knows us even before the world knows us. But when we commit that first sin with knowledge of doing wrong, we die to Him. "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." Romans 3:23. That doesn't make us any less real to Him, He aches for our presence. He wants our relationship to be restored.
There is nothing that I wouldn't do to have my daughter back in my arms. I would have gladly given my life to save hers. God created that choice in Jesus, and gave us the opportunity for restoration. What would it be like if my daughter suddenly cried from the other room? Would I not throw this computer off my lap and sprint to her side? I imagine what absolute joy I will feel when we are finally reunited in heaven, and I truly believe that my heavenly Father greeted Kaitlyn, will greet me, and has greeted every believer that has gone on before us the same way.
Why a blog?
One day when I was visiting Kenney's office one of her associates, Melissa, had come in and started talking to me about this blog. I had shared it with Kenney when we first picked up Kaitlyn from her because I wanted her to know what an amazing impact she had on our experience and I wasn't able to tell her face to face.
Melissa is one of the social media coordinators for Distinctive Life, and between her and Kenney my blog had been passed up to the higher-ups of the organization. They wanted me to write a quick blurb for their blog about why I had decided to start the blog in the first place. Here's what I wrote:
Melissa is one of the social media coordinators for Distinctive Life, and between her and Kenney my blog had been passed up to the higher-ups of the organization. They wanted me to write a quick blurb for their blog about why I had decided to start the blog in the first place. Here's what I wrote:
If you have recently experienced a loss, you may have gone through some confusion when thinking about what is appropriate for your social media page, such as Facebook, twitter, and Google+. First, there is no "right" way to incorporate your grieving into the social media. Some people choose to make their status updates a quick homage to the people who have passed, maybe including a link to their written obituary. Others choose to remain silent on their page until they feel that they can write something upbeat or "normal" so that people will not feel obligated to send condolences.
For me, I lost my daughter as a stillbirth on September 18th. I am friends with people in many different circles (work, church, school, friends of friends, etc.) and I didn't know how to tell everyone at once. I really did not want to have to tell everyone individually, so Facebook became the obvious choice to get the word out quickly and succinctly. I didn't want to go over all the details of "what happened?!", but I wanted to let people know that we were accepting visitors if they felt like they wanted to stop by. My husband also changed his Facebook status to reflect the same thing. We didn't have an obituary for our daughter, but we could tell a small snippet of her story and know that the majority of people we cared about would see our announcement this way. I'm really glad that we chose to use our social media pages to let everyone know because over the next 48 hours we were surrounded with love from people through messages and posts from all across the world. These were, and are, some really comforting words from friends that were unable to come to the memorial service but still wanted us to know they were thinking of us.
The next week, I felt like I needed to say more. We had held a memorial service for our daughter the Saturday after she passed, and after that people were very respectful of our privacy and didn't ask questions about what happened. I felt like I needed to document what all had happened, and I was really scared that I would start to forget all the details of our hospital stay and Kaitlyn's short life. I decided to start writing a blog about what all we had gone through, and I wanted to be able to voice emotions that I didn't think would be appropriate for a true social media outlet like Facebook. For example, I went through a really rough day where I was incredibly jealous of a girl I knew who had just posted pictures of her perfect newborn daughter, and I needed to vent. I didn't want to be completely crazy and write all over her page about how much I envied her and how unfair it was that her baby was fine, but I needed to write it somewhere. This is where the blog came into place. I was able to write, unedited, about how much it hurt me to see someone else have a happy life when we were still so devastated. I loved the ability to sit and cry and write without having anyone interrupt me with advice, as helpful as it was, or be inhibited by the sobs that would sometimes come as I recalled certain events. It has proved to be one of the most therapeutic things for me to do, because once I write about an incident or a memory, I rarely relive it. The first few days after Kaitlyn's death, anytime I was alone I would get overwhelmed with the memories from that day. Once I started writing, I was able to get all of those details down on paper and leave them there. I was able to start functioning somewhat normally, and my husband and my mom both commented on how much writing helped me. I never go back an edit, either, and I am somewhat of a perfectionist so the thought of seeing all my grammatical errors and run-on sentences still makes me cringe a little. Regardless, I wanted my blog to be true to what I was going through at the time, and I didn't want to be edited.
The final piece of the social media confusion is what to do with your pictures. My Facebook profile picture and banner are still my maternity pictures, and I am not ready to take those down just yet. I don't know what I would put there instead, and I'm not done looking at how happy I was when I was still with my healthy daughter. This is truly unique to every situation, but I would just warn you not to do anything you're not ready to do. We were also blessed to have a photographer volunteer her time and skills to come in the day we had Kaitlyn and take pictures of us with her. They are the most precious things I have from that day. Again, I faced a real dilemma with how I wanted to (if I wanted to) share these with people. I worried about what people would think when they saw them. I worried that they would say, "Oh my gosh its a picture of a dead baby girl." But I wanted to share them with people who wanted to see them. So again, I put them on the blog and wrote about how much they meant to me. I warned people at the beginning of the post that the pictures would be included, and if they did not want to see them that they shouldn't scroll down and just bypass that particular post.
One of the beautiful things about social media is that it can be shared with people from all around the world in the blink of an eye. I have had several small businesses (such as Distinctive Life and the photographer who took our pictures that day) ask to share our blog, and I have no reason to say no. I'm telling our story, but I'm not reliving it every moment. I'm able to help others who are going through similar situations know that they are never alone.
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