1.27-1.31.14
We only spent four days in Punta Cana, but I can say that was one of the BEST things Alex and I have ever done together. The resort was an all-inclusive, and it was basically like a cruise except you stay in one place the whole time. And the booze was included, so that was a plus.
Alex would get up every morning (read: every. morning.) before the sun came up and go run on the beach. I would fall back asleep and he would wake me up about an hour later asking when we were going to go get breakfast (ugh. After I sleep until noon...). Then we would just go relax on the beach or in one of the cabanas by the pool and swim, read, talk, and eat. We were able to talk about everything we'd been through in the last 6 months, and talk about his transition out of the army into the civilian world. He talked to me a lot about the potential job opportunities that he had applied for, and I was able to dream with him about what I would like our life to look like in 5-10 years. It was basically our second (or third... or fourth...) honeymoon.
On the last morning, I was committed, committed, to get up with him and go watch the sunrise over the ocean. I knew it would be beautiful, and I knew I wanted to see it first hand instead of just seeing it in his iPhone pictures from his run.
It was probably just about 70 degrees that morning before the sun came up. I couldn't decide if I wanted to go swim in the ocean or if I wanted to watch the sunrise from one of the beach chairs. I dipped my toes in the water, and then I started to wade out. I kept walking out until the waves started hitting me in my belly button.
Its a funny thing when you try to resist waves like that. If your stand your ground, inevitably, a large wave will come along and slap up against your stiff body, either knocking you over or giving you a nice face-full of saltwater. You can brace yourself for it, see it coming, or even turn your back and let it be a surprise to you and the result is the same: face full of salt-water. It can be kind of miserable because even though you're in the water, the water is still beating you.
Only when you lift your legs off the bottom, off of your solid footing, and allow yourself to be swept up by the waves can you really begin to understand, appreciate, and enjoy the waves. When you float, the waves don't slap you in the face or overwhelm you. They don't knock you over. Sure, you're still at the mercy of the crests and valleys, but you're not being taken. Instead, you're choosing to be submerged in the water and letting the water dictate when you rise and when you fall.
If you haven't figured it out yet, this is the perfect analogy to becoming a Christ-follower. We've got a lot of people that want to stand in the water, yet have their feet planted firmly on the ocean bottom so that they have "control" (whatever that means) and can see what's coming. They think if they can just prepare for it, brace themselves, feel the waves coming on, that they'll be able to handle it. They can wade out even further and still have their footing. But they never really submerge, and then end up with a face-full of saltwater.
Then we've got the people that are still standing on the beach not ready to get wet. They watch others, see how they're getting smacked in the face with salt water and think, "Why would I do that? That doesn't look like fun... Looks like they keep getting wet when they don't want to." So instead, they stay back. They may ask how what the water's like, but they never experience it on on their skin.
Lastly, we have those true followers who trust enough to let their feet come off the floor. At this point, we finally allow the waves to carry us. And at that point, the waves stop scaring us. Are we immune to them? Absolutely not. But they don't beat us anymore. We ride them, accept them, and enjoy them (sometimes).
The sunrise that morning started as a soft pink... then glowed to coral, and finally ended up a bright hot pink. Kaitlyn had helped God paint that sunrise for me as God used the waves to teach me.
Kaitlyn
Friday, January 31, 2014
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
She used the P word!
On my last post, I used the word "prophesy" (I'm sure when you saw the title of this post you probably thought I meant the word was PREGNANT... not yet... hold tight and that'll be here by May 3). I just want to expand on this thought for a minute.
I do believe in limited modern-day prophesy being one spiritual gift from God. What I mean by "limited" is that I do not believe in wide-cast prophesy like what we see in the old testament, but I do believe that as believers, we can say things to each other that are not from ourselves but from the Holy Spirit and those things will eventually come to pass.
Going off of that- How do I know if what someone tells me is true or if they're full of malarkey? I recently found a scripture that is much better at being direct than I am:
1 John 4: 1-2
"Dear friends, don't believe every spirit. Test the spirits to see if they
are from God because many false prophets have gone into the world.
This is how you know if a spirit comes from God: every spirit that
confesses that Jesus Christ has come as a human is from God, and every spirit
that doesn't confess Jesus is not from God."
Its pretty easy: if the person who is telling me something is a Christ-follower, then I trust their words. Otherwise, they're full of mess.
I had a friend ask me once why I don't believe in the book of Mormon. He said that Mormons confess Christ as their savior, so why would I not be Mormon and believe Joseph Smith?
Kind of the same thing as above, I don't believe that wide-cast prophesies after the initial apostles are necessary or true.
In the old testament, God used prophets to communicate with His people because not everyone was able to speak with God and hear His word. They had a certain set of priests who were able to give sacrifices to God and were able to enter in to the Holy space to speak with God.
When Jesus came, died, was resurrected, and then was taken up to Heaven, He sent down the Holy Spirit. Once the Holy Spirit came to dwell within us, the need for wide-spread prophesy faded because now every person had the ability to speak with God directly. Once you get that the Holy Spirit is God and is also in you, if you are a believer, it will totally change your world. To know that you have a direct line with your Creator, it gives you the ability to believe and be faithful in ways that those on the outside simply don't understand (more on this later).
Anyways, I just felt like there might be some confusion on that and I wanted to clear that up so that anybody that is reading doesn't get stuck. I grew up Baptist, so any spiritual gifts were largely discounted and never talked about. But now, I believe that they are absolutely part of the blessings that God pours out on us as a reminder of His sovereignty and goodness.
Anyways, I just felt like there might be some confusion on that and I wanted to clear that up so that anybody that is reading doesn't get stuck. I grew up Baptist, so any spiritual gifts were largely discounted and never talked about. But now, I believe that they are absolutely part of the blessings that God pours out on us as a reminder of His sovereignty and goodness.
Monday, January 27, 2014
A passport and a husband
1.27.14
On Monday, Alex met me at the Miami airport and we took off on a four-day vacation to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. On the recommendation of friends, we had chosen to stay at one of their all-inclusive resorts, and we were excited to just get away and go be just the two of us in the middle of God's beauty.
We arrived late at about 11pm local time, and we took a shady looking taxi to the hotel. As we pulled through the security gates, we were greeted by the bell boys at the resort who promptly took our bags. We checked in and headed up to our room.
It was about 80 degrees still, even though it was the middle of the night. I started changing into my swimsuit when Alex looked at me sideways and said, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going down to the ocean..." I said, as if it were obvious.
"In the middle of the night?" He asked, still pretty impressed and confused that I would such and adventurous thing.
"Yeah, I need to see beauty, remember?"
"Okay... I guess I'm going with you!" he said, as he started to change.
The resort had about 50 cabanas out on the sandy beach, and we zig-zagged our way through them and out to the water. I started splashing Alex as I jumped straight in, leaving my shoes a ways up on the shore. After we had gotten use to the water, we finally stopped splashing long enough to notice the stars. There were billions of them, and it was a cloudless night. The moon was out, but the stars were incredibly bright. I was struck by the awesomeness that the heavens bring.
When I was growing up, I use to love looking at the stars. I would stare out the window in the back of the car as we drove across Texas to visit family. I would drag my sleeping bag out on the driveway and lay and just stare. I don't know many of the constellations, but I was always in awe of the vastness of space.
It was one of the reasons I loved the verse we put on Kaitlyn's urn. It was a reminder of where I'd come from, and what I'd love seeing growing up. It was a reminder that there is not a soul on earth who could count all the stars, but God put each one of them there. It was a reminder that if He cared so much about something we could only look at from a distance, how much more does He care about each of us that He so carefully crafted, flaws and all?
Because of His might and power... Not one is missing.
On Monday, Alex met me at the Miami airport and we took off on a four-day vacation to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. On the recommendation of friends, we had chosen to stay at one of their all-inclusive resorts, and we were excited to just get away and go be just the two of us in the middle of God's beauty.
We arrived late at about 11pm local time, and we took a shady looking taxi to the hotel. As we pulled through the security gates, we were greeted by the bell boys at the resort who promptly took our bags. We checked in and headed up to our room.
It was about 80 degrees still, even though it was the middle of the night. I started changing into my swimsuit when Alex looked at me sideways and said, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going down to the ocean..." I said, as if it were obvious.
"In the middle of the night?" He asked, still pretty impressed and confused that I would such and adventurous thing.
"Yeah, I need to see beauty, remember?"
"Okay... I guess I'm going with you!" he said, as he started to change.
The resort had about 50 cabanas out on the sandy beach, and we zig-zagged our way through them and out to the water. I started splashing Alex as I jumped straight in, leaving my shoes a ways up on the shore. After we had gotten use to the water, we finally stopped splashing long enough to notice the stars. There were billions of them, and it was a cloudless night. The moon was out, but the stars were incredibly bright. I was struck by the awesomeness that the heavens bring.
When I was growing up, I use to love looking at the stars. I would stare out the window in the back of the car as we drove across Texas to visit family. I would drag my sleeping bag out on the driveway and lay and just stare. I don't know many of the constellations, but I was always in awe of the vastness of space.
It was one of the reasons I loved the verse we put on Kaitlyn's urn. It was a reminder of where I'd come from, and what I'd love seeing growing up. It was a reminder that there is not a soul on earth who could count all the stars, but God put each one of them there. It was a reminder that if He cared so much about something we could only look at from a distance, how much more does He care about each of us that He so carefully crafted, flaws and all?
Because of His might and power... Not one is missing.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
National Training Meeting
1.25.14-1.27.14
On Saturday morning, I had to get up super early to get on a plane to go to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, for the weekend for a business trip. I was nervous and excited all at the same time.
The first person I was able to sit and talk with was a lady named Tobi who I had worked with in Phoenix last summer. I was about 6 months pregnant when I worked with her, and I had spent 3 weeks enjoying the vast desert of Arizona. Maybe I learned a thing or two, too.
"I was wondering how you've been," she said, after I brought up Kaitlyn in some non-awkward way. "Since you brought it up, I've been dying to know: did your husband make it home okay?"
"Yes, he made it the Friday before," I told her.
"Thank God." She said. Thank God indeed.
I found one of my favorite people that I went through training with, Pam, and we spent the majority of the weekend together. She told me the story of how a nurse I use to work with, who now lives in Denver, was so upset when he heard about our loss that he told his manager about it, who then started telling Pam about it, which is why she knew something was going on when I didn't text her right after Kaitlyn's due date. Pam was the one who had let my training class know that we had lost Kaitlyn, and she helped coordinate naming the star after Kaitlyn.
I remember when Pam had texted me after we lost Kaitlyn and before the star. I think it was about a month afterwards, and for some reason I had my work phone on me (not something I was terribly worried about at that period of time).
"How are you?" she had texted. It was unassuming. It wasn't a direct, "I know what happened..." It was perfect Pam. She knew exactly how to ask me what had happened without even saying it. I had, of course, launched in to what happened, and within second she told me that she had already heard that we lost K from a guy in Denver (the nurse I use to work with ).
Now, Pam was my buffer. She repeatedly came to find me and treated me normal (thank you, thank you, thank you). We met out on the beach one morning and watched the sunrise with our toes in the water. It was funny because she lives in California so she is use to watching the sun set over the ocean, not watch it rise.
The last person I'll tell you about is Stuart. Stuart is the mastermind behind the naming of Kaitlyn's star, and during training he flew his wife and his daughter out to LA to take them to the zoo. He's a stand-up guy, and such a sweet friend. When I saw him, I grabbed him into a hug and said, "Do you read my blog?! Do you understand what the star meant to me?!" He said he hadn't read it (acted a little embarassed), but the next morning when he came into breakfast he plopped down next to me and said, "Oh my gosh. I read it. I read your blog post and I... It was beautiful. All I did was think it was a neat idea to name a star."
It was just his blind obedience... Actually, the blind obedience of everyone in my training group, that was God's way of comforting me in one of the darkest moments of my life. Amazing how He does that.
On Saturday morning, I had to get up super early to get on a plane to go to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, for the weekend for a business trip. I was nervous and excited all at the same time.
The first person I was able to sit and talk with was a lady named Tobi who I had worked with in Phoenix last summer. I was about 6 months pregnant when I worked with her, and I had spent 3 weeks enjoying the vast desert of Arizona. Maybe I learned a thing or two, too.
"I was wondering how you've been," she said, after I brought up Kaitlyn in some non-awkward way. "Since you brought it up, I've been dying to know: did your husband make it home okay?"
"Yes, he made it the Friday before," I told her.
"Thank God." She said. Thank God indeed.
I found one of my favorite people that I went through training with, Pam, and we spent the majority of the weekend together. She told me the story of how a nurse I use to work with, who now lives in Denver, was so upset when he heard about our loss that he told his manager about it, who then started telling Pam about it, which is why she knew something was going on when I didn't text her right after Kaitlyn's due date. Pam was the one who had let my training class know that we had lost Kaitlyn, and she helped coordinate naming the star after Kaitlyn.
I remember when Pam had texted me after we lost Kaitlyn and before the star. I think it was about a month afterwards, and for some reason I had my work phone on me (not something I was terribly worried about at that period of time).
"How are you?" she had texted. It was unassuming. It wasn't a direct, "I know what happened..." It was perfect Pam. She knew exactly how to ask me what had happened without even saying it. I had, of course, launched in to what happened, and within second she told me that she had already heard that we lost K from a guy in Denver (the nurse I use to work with ).
Now, Pam was my buffer. She repeatedly came to find me and treated me normal (thank you, thank you, thank you). We met out on the beach one morning and watched the sunrise with our toes in the water. It was funny because she lives in California so she is use to watching the sun set over the ocean, not watch it rise.
The last person I'll tell you about is Stuart. Stuart is the mastermind behind the naming of Kaitlyn's star, and during training he flew his wife and his daughter out to LA to take them to the zoo. He's a stand-up guy, and such a sweet friend. When I saw him, I grabbed him into a hug and said, "Do you read my blog?! Do you understand what the star meant to me?!" He said he hadn't read it (acted a little embarassed), but the next morning when he came into breakfast he plopped down next to me and said, "Oh my gosh. I read it. I read your blog post and I... It was beautiful. All I did was think it was a neat idea to name a star."
It was just his blind obedience... Actually, the blind obedience of everyone in my training group, that was God's way of comforting me in one of the darkest moments of my life. Amazing how He does that.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Getting ready
1.24.14
On Friday morning, I went and had a session with Kate. I knew I was going to be seeing a lot of people over the weekend that I hadn't seen since I was in training for my job, and also that I hadn't seen since I was pregnant.
"I just feel like I'm going to backslide," I told Kate. "Its hard to say to people that I'm doing okay... Most of them want me to be back where I was in September or October, but I'm not. Its January. The bad days still come, but they tend not to be as severe, and there seem to be more okay days between them now."
"Yes, and don't let people's reactions stick to you. Remember that you're not responsible for how they react or for their feelings. You are responsible for you. There is a visual aid I use to help people see this so that they have something to remember to keep other people's issues away from you. Think about being in a see-through column that protects you. Whatever anyone else's reaction is sticks on that column and not on you, you can let it fall off or let it just disappear. Don't try to play God and fix whatever they are going through," Kate said.
"I know it. It just like... I am where I am, I'm not where you think I am or where you remember me being. And that's hard but that's the truth," I told her. We also talked about Alex and I getting pregnant again and how that would look. "I know that I'll probably need to come see you some throughout that next pregnancy. I don't know how that will look, but I don't want to be anxious and I don't want fear to rule that pregnancy. Dr. L said she would deliver us at 36 weeks if we wanted her to, but I struggle with whether that is the right thing to do. Not that its a decision that we have to make right now, but I just don't want the fear of something happening again to take away from our next baby's time to mature."
"Absolutely," said Kate. "On our second pregnancy, I flat out had to tell my healthcare providers to get their fear under control. You can't let their fear stick on you, either. You have to let them deal with that outside of your interaction with them, and they need to respect your emotions and not drag theirs in on top of yours."
I love Kate.
"I got a crazy message the other day from one of my friends," I told her, continuing on the pregnancy topic. "It was from Hallye, and this is what it said:
I had a dream about you last night. You were pregnant with a beautiful little boy that somehow I could already see, and his name was to be Galia. Which means "God will Redeem" in Hebrew. And I was SO EXCITED for you. And I debated on wether to tell you this, but I felt God gave me that for a reason. I love you! I pray for you every day! I hope you're doing well & your heart full of love!"
Isn't that crazy?" I asked Kate.
"Not at all," she replied. "We had a few prophesies like that spoken over us in our time of brokenness, and all of them came true. And actually, when you were talking about going to your OB just now I just had this image of 'Boy' come over me. So I think you will have a boy next time."
Well... we'll see...
On Friday morning, I went and had a session with Kate. I knew I was going to be seeing a lot of people over the weekend that I hadn't seen since I was in training for my job, and also that I hadn't seen since I was pregnant.
"I just feel like I'm going to backslide," I told Kate. "Its hard to say to people that I'm doing okay... Most of them want me to be back where I was in September or October, but I'm not. Its January. The bad days still come, but they tend not to be as severe, and there seem to be more okay days between them now."
"Yes, and don't let people's reactions stick to you. Remember that you're not responsible for how they react or for their feelings. You are responsible for you. There is a visual aid I use to help people see this so that they have something to remember to keep other people's issues away from you. Think about being in a see-through column that protects you. Whatever anyone else's reaction is sticks on that column and not on you, you can let it fall off or let it just disappear. Don't try to play God and fix whatever they are going through," Kate said.
"I know it. It just like... I am where I am, I'm not where you think I am or where you remember me being. And that's hard but that's the truth," I told her. We also talked about Alex and I getting pregnant again and how that would look. "I know that I'll probably need to come see you some throughout that next pregnancy. I don't know how that will look, but I don't want to be anxious and I don't want fear to rule that pregnancy. Dr. L said she would deliver us at 36 weeks if we wanted her to, but I struggle with whether that is the right thing to do. Not that its a decision that we have to make right now, but I just don't want the fear of something happening again to take away from our next baby's time to mature."
"Absolutely," said Kate. "On our second pregnancy, I flat out had to tell my healthcare providers to get their fear under control. You can't let their fear stick on you, either. You have to let them deal with that outside of your interaction with them, and they need to respect your emotions and not drag theirs in on top of yours."
I love Kate.
"I got a crazy message the other day from one of my friends," I told her, continuing on the pregnancy topic. "It was from Hallye, and this is what it said:
I had a dream about you last night. You were pregnant with a beautiful little boy that somehow I could already see, and his name was to be Galia. Which means "God will Redeem" in Hebrew. And I was SO EXCITED for you. And I debated on wether to tell you this, but I felt God gave me that for a reason. I love you! I pray for you every day! I hope you're doing well & your heart full of love!"
Isn't that crazy?" I asked Kate.
"Not at all," she replied. "We had a few prophesies like that spoken over us in our time of brokenness, and all of them came true. And actually, when you were talking about going to your OB just now I just had this image of 'Boy' come over me. So I think you will have a boy next time."
Well... we'll see...
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Mentoring Opportunity
1.23.14
I have been really blessed in my career in that I got a pretty kick butt job right out of college. I had a lot of bumps in the road learning to navigate all the politics of a first job, and I learned those lessons along side David in a very high-stress, high-reward kind of job.
I changed jobs when I was 7 weeks pregnant to my new job. About the same pay, same area, less stress and less work, to be honest. Its been awesome.
I got an email from my sales rep asking me if I would be interested in mentoring a girl that is just starting with the company who is also straight out of college. Basically, being a guide to help her get through the tough situations and be able to answer those questions of "How do I deal with so and so treating me like this?" I was flattered and excited! I really like to teach and mentor, I get a lot of personal satisfaction out of helping people grow. So immediately I said yes.
My sales rep wrote a message to this girl's manager saying I was good to go to be her mentor, and setting up a time for us to meet that next weekend at the National Training Meeting in Florida. The next thing I know, I have an email back from her manager that says something like this:
"Hi Amy,
Thank you so much for agreeing to mentor Kaitlyn. I know that she will learn a lot from you. Let's meet up at the NTM so that you guys can work out a schedule for Kaitlyn to come shadow you."
I was in the middle of a case when I read the email, and I about lost it. I hadn't talked to Alex about all of the mentoring thing yet, so I turned on my sales rep.
Me: OF COURSE Her name is Kaitlyn! Freaking of COURSE it is.
Rep: Oh my gosh Amy, I'm so sorry. I should have asked.
Me: In what other sick world would that even matter? Its not your fault, I'm just irritated that I didn't even consider that her name would be Kaitlyn.
Rep: You don't have to do it, you don't have to mentor her. Its not a big deal, there will be other people you can mentor.
Me: Let me mull it over, I'll get back with you later this week...
When I got home that night, I finally had a chance to catch Alex up. I was totally distraught because I was torn. I wanted to be a mentor and teach, but I also didn't want to put myself in a position to backslide and make it worse. Plus, I had already had some serious self-work to do with another Kaitlyn and I didn't really want to go through all that again.
"You can't shun everyone named Kaitlyn for the rest of your life..." said Alex when I got done heaving up the story.
Ugh.
"I know," I said quietly back to him.
"That's letting it beat you. You can't do that," he repeated.
I knew he was right, but I didn't like it. I had a decision to make, and I couldn't even make it right then. I decided to leave my emotions where they were for the time being, and I would meet this new Kaitlyn girl and decide if I was mentally ready to have her with me for a few days at work.
I have been really blessed in my career in that I got a pretty kick butt job right out of college. I had a lot of bumps in the road learning to navigate all the politics of a first job, and I learned those lessons along side David in a very high-stress, high-reward kind of job.
I changed jobs when I was 7 weeks pregnant to my new job. About the same pay, same area, less stress and less work, to be honest. Its been awesome.
I got an email from my sales rep asking me if I would be interested in mentoring a girl that is just starting with the company who is also straight out of college. Basically, being a guide to help her get through the tough situations and be able to answer those questions of "How do I deal with so and so treating me like this?" I was flattered and excited! I really like to teach and mentor, I get a lot of personal satisfaction out of helping people grow. So immediately I said yes.
My sales rep wrote a message to this girl's manager saying I was good to go to be her mentor, and setting up a time for us to meet that next weekend at the National Training Meeting in Florida. The next thing I know, I have an email back from her manager that says something like this:
"Hi Amy,
Thank you so much for agreeing to mentor Kaitlyn. I know that she will learn a lot from you. Let's meet up at the NTM so that you guys can work out a schedule for Kaitlyn to come shadow you."
I was in the middle of a case when I read the email, and I about lost it. I hadn't talked to Alex about all of the mentoring thing yet, so I turned on my sales rep.
Me: OF COURSE Her name is Kaitlyn! Freaking of COURSE it is.
Rep: Oh my gosh Amy, I'm so sorry. I should have asked.
Me: In what other sick world would that even matter? Its not your fault, I'm just irritated that I didn't even consider that her name would be Kaitlyn.
Rep: You don't have to do it, you don't have to mentor her. Its not a big deal, there will be other people you can mentor.
Me: Let me mull it over, I'll get back with you later this week...
When I got home that night, I finally had a chance to catch Alex up. I was totally distraught because I was torn. I wanted to be a mentor and teach, but I also didn't want to put myself in a position to backslide and make it worse. Plus, I had already had some serious self-work to do with another Kaitlyn and I didn't really want to go through all that again.
"You can't shun everyone named Kaitlyn for the rest of your life..." said Alex when I got done heaving up the story.
Ugh.
"I know," I said quietly back to him.
"That's letting it beat you. You can't do that," he repeated.
I knew he was right, but I didn't like it. I had a decision to make, and I couldn't even make it right then. I decided to leave my emotions where they were for the time being, and I would meet this new Kaitlyn girl and decide if I was mentally ready to have her with me for a few days at work.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Close my eyes...
1.21.14
Nothing much happened the Sunday and Monday after the Treasure You event. We went to Chad and Jenny's house that Saturday night to celebrate Chad graduating with his Bachelor's degree (yay Chad!) and just to love on our friends who know us as who we are, not just through TV appearances and broadcasts.
The following Tuesday, I was meeting up with my Mom's cousin named Tina. Tina was one of those people in my life who had come in and out as our family moved and grew, but in the past few years she has become more present and open with sharing her faith and what God has done for her. She travels a lot for work, and had told me that she would be in Dallas and wanted to meet up. Of course I said yes, and I was excited!
We met up at a trendy restaurant not too far from our house, and we started to share stories and break bread together. Tina has a daughter that is about 10 years younger than me, and the two of them like to try out new restaurants and eat weird things. They deemed themselves "foodies" and always look for an opportunity to be adventurous.
Tina talked to me that night a lot about Kaitlyn, and about it being okay that I am still (and will always be) mourning her. She talked about how people have been inspired by the way we handled her death, and that always flatters me and humbles me. Like I've said before, I don't ever go back and edit or re-read my entries. I just let the words flow through me and then I post it. There are some definite times that I know God has used me to speak to people, most profoundly the post that I wrote about how God views lost people. And most of the time when people say I inspire them I just look at them cock-eyed and think they've got to be out of their minds, because I am incredibly broken. Maybe transparently broken, but broken nonetheless.
"You're going to be pregnant soon," Tina told me as we talked about healing. "I know it." It was one of those God moments again- I knew she was right. Felt it in my innermost being.
"Did I ever tell you the story of my mom's passing?" she asked me. I shook my head that she hadn't. "My mom was sick, and we had her on hospice. It was getting to the point that we knew that she wasn't going to be with us long, so I called Steve (her brother) and told him that he should come on down to Houston so that he could be there at the right time. We all had our pallets made in the living room of Mom's house, and it was in the middle of the night when I was sitting at her bedside holding her hand. I watched her breathing start to get more difficult, and I knew that I couldn't watch this again. I didn't want to wake anybody else up, but instead I just prayed to God that I wasn't strong enough and I couldn't watch my mother die. When I got done praying, I felt like someone came up behind me and put their hands around my eyes. I thought it was Stevie covering my eyes because he had woken up at the exact right time. I let go of Mom's hands and reached up to pull his hand down, and I realized that there wasn't anybody there. In that same moment, my eyes were opened, and mom was gone."
"Wow, Tina," I said, totally in awe of her recollection of that moment and her sorrow yet joy in God answering her prayer so directly and instantaneously.
I think one of the things that has really disrailed Christianity (if I can be so bold) in America is that we're all so concerned about spouting our Bible verses and "saying the right things" to non-believers that we forget to express what God has done for us individually. This is one of the reasons I wanted to write everything down, because I knew in that first week that God was calling me to write this down as a testament for what He has done for me, for us. And I know that I am weak and imperfect, and that I would never remember every detail that He has graciously shown me.
So instead, I write. I write the beauty and the broken all in one because that's what He has done for me. He has taken my broken heart when I was ordering Kaitlyn's urn and reminded me that He is working in all things by letting a group of people I hadn't seen in months name a star after her. Even though I sat and cried and was shattered in a million pieces in the middle of the kitchen at that moment, He still used it for His glory. He is still, and will continue, to work through us to touch others.
Nothing much happened the Sunday and Monday after the Treasure You event. We went to Chad and Jenny's house that Saturday night to celebrate Chad graduating with his Bachelor's degree (yay Chad!) and just to love on our friends who know us as who we are, not just through TV appearances and broadcasts.
The following Tuesday, I was meeting up with my Mom's cousin named Tina. Tina was one of those people in my life who had come in and out as our family moved and grew, but in the past few years she has become more present and open with sharing her faith and what God has done for her. She travels a lot for work, and had told me that she would be in Dallas and wanted to meet up. Of course I said yes, and I was excited!
We met up at a trendy restaurant not too far from our house, and we started to share stories and break bread together. Tina has a daughter that is about 10 years younger than me, and the two of them like to try out new restaurants and eat weird things. They deemed themselves "foodies" and always look for an opportunity to be adventurous.
Tina talked to me that night a lot about Kaitlyn, and about it being okay that I am still (and will always be) mourning her. She talked about how people have been inspired by the way we handled her death, and that always flatters me and humbles me. Like I've said before, I don't ever go back and edit or re-read my entries. I just let the words flow through me and then I post it. There are some definite times that I know God has used me to speak to people, most profoundly the post that I wrote about how God views lost people. And most of the time when people say I inspire them I just look at them cock-eyed and think they've got to be out of their minds, because I am incredibly broken. Maybe transparently broken, but broken nonetheless.
"You're going to be pregnant soon," Tina told me as we talked about healing. "I know it." It was one of those God moments again- I knew she was right. Felt it in my innermost being.
"Did I ever tell you the story of my mom's passing?" she asked me. I shook my head that she hadn't. "My mom was sick, and we had her on hospice. It was getting to the point that we knew that she wasn't going to be with us long, so I called Steve (her brother) and told him that he should come on down to Houston so that he could be there at the right time. We all had our pallets made in the living room of Mom's house, and it was in the middle of the night when I was sitting at her bedside holding her hand. I watched her breathing start to get more difficult, and I knew that I couldn't watch this again. I didn't want to wake anybody else up, but instead I just prayed to God that I wasn't strong enough and I couldn't watch my mother die. When I got done praying, I felt like someone came up behind me and put their hands around my eyes. I thought it was Stevie covering my eyes because he had woken up at the exact right time. I let go of Mom's hands and reached up to pull his hand down, and I realized that there wasn't anybody there. In that same moment, my eyes were opened, and mom was gone."
"Wow, Tina," I said, totally in awe of her recollection of that moment and her sorrow yet joy in God answering her prayer so directly and instantaneously.
I think one of the things that has really disrailed Christianity (if I can be so bold) in America is that we're all so concerned about spouting our Bible verses and "saying the right things" to non-believers that we forget to express what God has done for us individually. This is one of the reasons I wanted to write everything down, because I knew in that first week that God was calling me to write this down as a testament for what He has done for me, for us. And I know that I am weak and imperfect, and that I would never remember every detail that He has graciously shown me.
So instead, I write. I write the beauty and the broken all in one because that's what He has done for me. He has taken my broken heart when I was ordering Kaitlyn's urn and reminded me that He is working in all things by letting a group of people I hadn't seen in months name a star after her. Even though I sat and cried and was shattered in a million pieces in the middle of the kitchen at that moment, He still used it for His glory. He is still, and will continue, to work through us to touch others.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Reflections
1.18.14
Alex and I had gone to the Treasure You event in separate cars because he didn't want to get there that early just to watch me have makeup put on (such a guy!). He dropped me off at my car on the other side of the hotel, and I sat in my car for a few minutes before I was ready to go.
I got on the other side of the hotel before I started crying. I had been so high and so low over the last 48 hours, and I just needed to cry. There were so many emotions that day. I loved being honored, I was flattered and humbled and blessed that God would remember me in such a way.
But at the same time...
I miss my daughter. I ache for. my. daughter. All this attention and sharing, it didn't bring her back. It didn't make it any easier. I know that being able to bring this conversation out to the world is helping a lot of women, but I was still grieving. I am still grieving. I will always be grieving.
I think that's why Sabryna made such an impact on me. I would never ever compare my pain to hers because I think hers is so much worse: she had a relationship with her son on this side of Heaven very different to what I was able to have with Kaitlyn. She heard his voice, talked to him daily, watched him grow from a boy into a man. Watched him find his personality and his place in the world. And in an instant, that was all taken from her. And then replayed over and over and over again as the trial of George Zimmerman came about. And then when George Zimmerman popped up on the news now and then for random things like speeding in Texas. The man who shot her son couldn't have the common decency to stay out of the news so that she could grieve in private instead of having his name said on the TV and refreshing that pain.
Sabryna has been catapulted into a world of fame. She has pictures with the First Lady, attended several fundraisers and balls, and been honored in other ways similar to the Treasure You honor. And yet, I bet she would trade all that and more to have Treyvon back in her house lounging on the couch and playing video games.
I was amazed that I had been able to meet such women, and that for some reason people kept coming up to Alex and me at the reception and asking to take pictures with us? I had about 7 different women come up to me and tell me that they had lost children in similar ways, and then they would want a picture. It was weird. It wasn't me. I felt sympathy for celebrities always having to pose and smile with complete strangers who found them fascinating.
I cried the entire way back to the house. The entire 40 minute drive. I was completely exhausted when I got home, and I immediately washed the makeup off my face. I loved the moment, was grateful for the moment, but I was also glad the moment was over.
It was time to going back to just being Alex and me.
Alex and I had gone to the Treasure You event in separate cars because he didn't want to get there that early just to watch me have makeup put on (such a guy!). He dropped me off at my car on the other side of the hotel, and I sat in my car for a few minutes before I was ready to go.
I got on the other side of the hotel before I started crying. I had been so high and so low over the last 48 hours, and I just needed to cry. There were so many emotions that day. I loved being honored, I was flattered and humbled and blessed that God would remember me in such a way.
But at the same time...
I miss my daughter. I ache for. my. daughter. All this attention and sharing, it didn't bring her back. It didn't make it any easier. I know that being able to bring this conversation out to the world is helping a lot of women, but I was still grieving. I am still grieving. I will always be grieving.
I think that's why Sabryna made such an impact on me. I would never ever compare my pain to hers because I think hers is so much worse: she had a relationship with her son on this side of Heaven very different to what I was able to have with Kaitlyn. She heard his voice, talked to him daily, watched him grow from a boy into a man. Watched him find his personality and his place in the world. And in an instant, that was all taken from her. And then replayed over and over and over again as the trial of George Zimmerman came about. And then when George Zimmerman popped up on the news now and then for random things like speeding in Texas. The man who shot her son couldn't have the common decency to stay out of the news so that she could grieve in private instead of having his name said on the TV and refreshing that pain.
Sabryna has been catapulted into a world of fame. She has pictures with the First Lady, attended several fundraisers and balls, and been honored in other ways similar to the Treasure You honor. And yet, I bet she would trade all that and more to have Treyvon back in her house lounging on the couch and playing video games.
I was amazed that I had been able to meet such women, and that for some reason people kept coming up to Alex and me at the reception and asking to take pictures with us? I had about 7 different women come up to me and tell me that they had lost children in similar ways, and then they would want a picture. It was weird. It wasn't me. I felt sympathy for celebrities always having to pose and smile with complete strangers who found them fascinating.
I cried the entire way back to the house. The entire 40 minute drive. I was completely exhausted when I got home, and I immediately washed the makeup off my face. I loved the moment, was grateful for the moment, but I was also glad the moment was over.
It was time to going back to just being Alex and me.
The Treasure You Event
1.18.14
We were told to be there late on Saturday morning, about 10 AM so I headed to downtown Dallas at about 9 to be sure I was there in plenty of time.
The first thing on the schedule was our make-up touch ups. I'm definitely not the best at make-up, so I was excited to have somebody that was a pro put everything on me. I had decided to wear a white lacy dress with some beige heels that Jenny had helped me pick out. The girls at White House Black Market also accessorized me with a belt that matched the shoes.
Anyways, I got there, got my makeup touched up, and just like that it was time for pictures.
We were told to be there late on Saturday morning, about 10 AM so I headed to downtown Dallas at about 9 to be sure I was there in plenty of time.
The first thing on the schedule was our make-up touch ups. I'm definitely not the best at make-up, so I was excited to have somebody that was a pro put everything on me. I had decided to wear a white lacy dress with some beige heels that Jenny had helped me pick out. The girls at White House Black Market also accessorized me with a belt that matched the shoes.
Anyways, I got there, got my makeup touched up, and just like that it was time for pictures.
Marla, Me, and Ron Corning (News Personality)
Me and Alex
Senator Wendy Davis, Me and Alex
We had a waiting room to hang out in until the big event, and while I was sitting there I got a facebook message from one of my friends who is a missionary in Kenya. She told me that one of her friends was posting pictures at the same time with the same people in them, and as I read the lady's name out loud, the woman next to me said, "Yes? That's me?" and I told her that we have a mutual friend in common! Turns out, this lady was one of the original people who helped start Hope Fellowship. Small world.
Then, we were asked to come out to this little area that they had set up as a red carpet. Robin Roberts had just arrived, and we were going to take pictures with her.
Marla Avery, Pat Smith, Robin Roberts, LaToya Brown, and Me!
As we broke up from taking the picture, Marla went right up to Robin Roberts and started telling her about how they had a mutual friend in common. To be honest, I got a little start struck and when Robin turned around to meet me all I could say was, "Its really nice to meet you." (All that, and I get tongue tied. Sheesh).
We were escorted back to the lunch room where there were about five tables set up with 10 chairs a piece. The front two tables had the big-wigs, Emmitt and Pat, and then the three of us winners were in the back with a table full of very interesting people. At the beginning of the lunch, Pat got up to the little podium and shooed all the camera men out. She said that she just wanted everyone to have some quiet before the event started, and that meant no still cameras or video cameras.
I sat next to a woman named Candy who didn't look much older than me, but I could tell that she was a mover and a shaker. She was talking across the table to another woman and they were sharing stories about who they'd met and where. Candy eventually started talking about her church, The Potter's House, where Bishop T. D. Jakes preaches. I distinctly remember one story that she told about Pat just getting up one service at the end and asking, "Does anybody need anything?" A completely open-ended question, like there was nothing that was out of bounds to ask for.
When lunch was over, it was time to head downstairs. We went down to the main auditorium where the presentations would take place, and I had a reserved seat on the front row. Alex sat behind me, he had decided to wear his dress blues and he just looks so handsome in those things! To my right was Marla, to my left was LaToya. On the other side of Marla was Senator Wendy Davis, who is tiny in real life, but very nice to talk to. On the other side of LaToya were the daughters of T.D. Jakes, Sarah and Cora.
Pat got up and talked for a little bit, and they did a life simulcast of the event on their website. (I am at 41:59 on that 2.5 hour clip.) Pat went through the three winners, and I was presented last. When I heard myself start talking about Kaitlyn's story, I started crying. It had just been such an amazing journey to be there, to be with all of these people of influence, and be able to tell our story, God's story. I was blown away, and completely humbled.
There was another Mom there at the event that really made an impression on me, and that was Treyvon Martin's mom. She was being honored for "Overcoming", but as I watched her throughout the day, I saw that her sadness was palpable. I saw the grief look that I'm sure was present on my face for the first few weeks after Kaitlyn passed. I saw pain.
I didn't really have the nerve to introduce myself to Sabryna Fulton at the lunch, but after she got up on stage as she was being honored and said, "I would never have chosen this, I don't want to be where I am, but Treyvon would want me to make the best of it," I knew I needed to hug her. Regardless of the whirlwind around Treyvon's death in the news, at the end of the day, a 17 year old boy lost his life. Over nothing. I saw that pain in her face, still.
Once the presentation was over, chaos broke out. So many people came up to us and wanted to shake our hands. Pat made her way down the front row to hug everyone, and I turned and introduced her to Alex and said, "I just wanted you to meet him and shake his hand," to which she replied, "Well can I hug him?!" That just made me laugh and I said, "Of COURSE you can hug him!"
Then, Bishop Jakes' daughter Cora came up to me and wanted my email address so that we can keep in touch (which we have), since she struggles with infertility.
As I saw that Robin Roberts was being shown out the door (or rather, escorted politely because everyone was trying to talk to her), I knew I needed to say one other thing to her. So I positioned myself right next to the line as she was finding her way to the exit and when she saw me she said, "Oh Congratulations on being recognized!" and gave me a hug, but I said, "Robin remember me in October..." She looked at me with a perplexed look and I continued, "It's stillbirth awareness month. Remember me in October." And with that, she took her hand and held my chin and looked me in the eye and said, "I will remember you in October."
On our way out the door to the reception, I found Sabryna Fulton standing against the wall. I couldn't help it, I didn't know this woman from Eve, but I just couldn't help it.
I looked her in the eyes and I said, "Can I hug you?" To which she said, sure, and I grabbed that lady like she was my sister and I hugged her really tight and whispered, "I am so sorry for your loss..."
And I hugged her. She hugged me back and said, "Thank you."
Alex and I went to the reception for a few minutes, but we had to leave fairly quickly because we needed to go to Chad and Jenny's for a graduation party for Chad. We had been through so much with those two and there was no way we were not going to be there.
And with that, Treasure You was all but over.
Friday, January 17, 2014
That afternoon
1.17.14
In a true twist of irony, I had an OB appointment that afternoon with Dr. L. I went to work for a few hours, and then swung by the house to pick up Alex and head to the doctor's office.
The office had been going through a renovation, so for the last appointment I had when I was still pregnant and my post-natal appointment, I ended up seeing Dr. L on a different floor than her office staff was on. This time, however, they were finished with the renovations so we walked in to a nice big waiting room and walked up to the check in desk.
There were a couple of babies in the waiting room, but since I had done so well over Christmas with Ash and Sam's kids, I really didn't think twice about it. Until one of them started to cry.
I couldn't help it. After sharing our story and having God be so faithful in answering our prayers and guiding our steps, I was still sad. I still miss my daughter. With all of my heart. There will always be this ache to be reunited with her. That hurt is made infinitely worse when I hear somebody else's child cry. Maybe because I will never know what Kaitlyn's voice sounds like. I will never get to see her eyes open and blink at me as I watch her wake up from a nap.
I'm still mourning my daughter. Through all of the highs and lows, I am still missing a huge part of my heart. And I think I always will be. Not to the degree that I am right now, while I wait for our next child to finally greet us, but I will always miss Kaitlyn. There will never be anyone in this world as fabulous as that little girl that loved me while Alex was gone. And was stubborn as hell and wouldn't ever turn to greet the world. Nobody can ever come close to all that sassiness in such a small package.
Dr. L's MA saw me and brought me back early.
"I'm really not ready for you yet, I just wanted to get you away from the infants," she said as she sat us in one of the rooms.
"Thank you." I whispered, somewhat embarrassed by having a dang break down in the middle of the waiting room.
When Dr. L finally came in, we sat and talked for a little while about Kaitlyn. I told her that I had walked through the L&D department earlier that week, and that I had even been on the news that same morning talking about stillbirths.
"There couldn't be a better spokes couple," she said. "You're both well-educated, and well-spoken. And good looking!" I had to laugh at that one. I told her that we had shared some of Kaitlyn's pictures and I ended up showing her Mallie's pictures that I keep on my phone (just in case anybody wants to see a picture of my sweet girl).
And then we talked about next time. We talked about starting up our family again. Dr. L was excited that we were emotionally ready to start trying again.
"I look forward to hearing some really good news from you not too long from now," she said as we wrapped up the appointment. "And anytime you want to hear that heartbeat, you just come in. We will let you listen to it anytime you want."
Can I just camp out in the office for 9 months? (I'm just kidding... Kind of...)
In a true twist of irony, I had an OB appointment that afternoon with Dr. L. I went to work for a few hours, and then swung by the house to pick up Alex and head to the doctor's office.
The office had been going through a renovation, so for the last appointment I had when I was still pregnant and my post-natal appointment, I ended up seeing Dr. L on a different floor than her office staff was on. This time, however, they were finished with the renovations so we walked in to a nice big waiting room and walked up to the check in desk.
There were a couple of babies in the waiting room, but since I had done so well over Christmas with Ash and Sam's kids, I really didn't think twice about it. Until one of them started to cry.
I couldn't help it. After sharing our story and having God be so faithful in answering our prayers and guiding our steps, I was still sad. I still miss my daughter. With all of my heart. There will always be this ache to be reunited with her. That hurt is made infinitely worse when I hear somebody else's child cry. Maybe because I will never know what Kaitlyn's voice sounds like. I will never get to see her eyes open and blink at me as I watch her wake up from a nap.
I'm still mourning my daughter. Through all of the highs and lows, I am still missing a huge part of my heart. And I think I always will be. Not to the degree that I am right now, while I wait for our next child to finally greet us, but I will always miss Kaitlyn. There will never be anyone in this world as fabulous as that little girl that loved me while Alex was gone. And was stubborn as hell and wouldn't ever turn to greet the world. Nobody can ever come close to all that sassiness in such a small package.
Dr. L's MA saw me and brought me back early.
"I'm really not ready for you yet, I just wanted to get you away from the infants," she said as she sat us in one of the rooms.
"Thank you." I whispered, somewhat embarrassed by having a dang break down in the middle of the waiting room.
When Dr. L finally came in, we sat and talked for a little while about Kaitlyn. I told her that I had walked through the L&D department earlier that week, and that I had even been on the news that same morning talking about stillbirths.
"There couldn't be a better spokes couple," she said. "You're both well-educated, and well-spoken. And good looking!" I had to laugh at that one. I told her that we had shared some of Kaitlyn's pictures and I ended up showing her Mallie's pictures that I keep on my phone (just in case anybody wants to see a picture of my sweet girl).
And then we talked about next time. We talked about starting up our family again. Dr. L was excited that we were emotionally ready to start trying again.
"I look forward to hearing some really good news from you not too long from now," she said as we wrapped up the appointment. "And anytime you want to hear that heartbeat, you just come in. We will let you listen to it anytime you want."
Can I just camp out in the office for 9 months? (I'm just kidding... Kind of...)
The Newscast
1.17.14
Friday morning we were set to be on the local news between 6:30 and 7:00 AM. The news station is in downtown Dallas, so I set my alarm for 4:30 to be sure that we had plenty of time to get down there and we wouldn't miss it.
I was a nervous wreck. Again, I'm a really bad public speaker and I was nervous about talking live on the air because you can never be sure what will come out of my mouth. Alex was in town to go with me (thank you, Jesus), and as we left the house we turned on some worship music to listen to on the way down.
We listened to nearly the entire album by Bethel Music called "For the sake of the world." I love the second song on there, called "Father", which is basically the Lord's prayer in modern words to a nice tune. We sang, and prayed, the whole way down to the station.
I wore a black dress with some pretty purple flowers down the center, and a black blazer on top. The girls at the store had talked me into wearing these bright purple heels that were about 4 inches tall. I still can't really believe I wore those! They're so not me- I would much rather have shown up in jeans and tennis shoes.
Anyways, when we got to the station, it was freezing outside but there was a group of Girl Scouts outside in order to remind everyone that it was time for Girl Scout cookies and to stock up. Alex and I snuck in the back door of the station and found our way back to the holding area. One of the other girls was there (her name is Marla) and we chatted as we waited patiently.
I was really excited to meet the two local anchors, Cynthia and Ron, because I had watched them every morning since I moved to Dallas. Cynthia had twins since I moved to Dallas, and I loved getting to watch her belly grow on TV. I felt like we would be fast friends if we ever got to meet in person, and Pat had told me that Cynthia is truly as genuine as she seems on TV.
When it was time for us to get settled in our seats, one of the techs came and got the three winners from the waiting room. What surprised me about the station is that it is really a lot smaller than you would expect: the whole space is probably only about 50 ft by 50 ft. The camera men have their cameras up on wheels that they maneuver around the space to make it look a lot bigger than it is, I guess.
They asked me to sit on the end of the row between the other winners and Cynthia. I was pretty excited, but super nervous. Cynthia gave us her prep-questions (in other words, she let us know what she was about to ask us about 5 minutes before we went on live). Did I say I was nervous? Yeah I think that's an understatement.
My hope through all of this was to just show God's glory. As much as you might think that's cheesy, that was honestly my only prayer through this entire thing. I wanted to be sure that I was truthful to our story, and that I recalled as much as possible to show people that God exists, and that He loves us, and that He cares about our details.
Cynthia had told us that this was going to be a 2.5 minute segment ("Like all of our segments" she said. Funny how much longer those seem when you're watching a news team bat the stories back and forth like pros). After she and Ron had finished the last little blip before the commercial break just prior to our interviews, Cynthia walked confidently over to her chair next to me and sat down.
"I have to tell you that I really enjoy watching you every morning," I told her.
"I made the mistake of reading all of your stories again this morning before I left the house," she told me, her eyes getting a little red underneath. "I cried the whole way to work."
While she was reading her question to me, I think she was trying not to cry. She made it through, though, and then we all went out on the patio and ate Girl Scout Cookies (true story).
And that was pretty much it. Alex and I went back into the waiting room and grabbed my bag, and then went to the car and headed home.
I was exhausted. As much as I love being able to share about Kaitlyn, I was really nervous about speaking publicly about our loss and as wonderful as it is to be able to share, it still doesn't bring her back. So with every big share, there is an equally great but painful moment behind closed doors that I experience. This time, at least, I had Alex in the car with me and he was driving so I was able to sit in the passenger seat and just process everything that had just happened.
P.S. Don't think poor of me because I didn't post the whole interviews with the other winners on here. I am scared that the contract might apply with news clips, so I'm just posting my stuff.
Friday morning we were set to be on the local news between 6:30 and 7:00 AM. The news station is in downtown Dallas, so I set my alarm for 4:30 to be sure that we had plenty of time to get down there and we wouldn't miss it.
I was a nervous wreck. Again, I'm a really bad public speaker and I was nervous about talking live on the air because you can never be sure what will come out of my mouth. Alex was in town to go with me (thank you, Jesus), and as we left the house we turned on some worship music to listen to on the way down.
We listened to nearly the entire album by Bethel Music called "For the sake of the world." I love the second song on there, called "Father", which is basically the Lord's prayer in modern words to a nice tune. We sang, and prayed, the whole way down to the station.
I wore a black dress with some pretty purple flowers down the center, and a black blazer on top. The girls at the store had talked me into wearing these bright purple heels that were about 4 inches tall. I still can't really believe I wore those! They're so not me- I would much rather have shown up in jeans and tennis shoes.
Anyways, when we got to the station, it was freezing outside but there was a group of Girl Scouts outside in order to remind everyone that it was time for Girl Scout cookies and to stock up. Alex and I snuck in the back door of the station and found our way back to the holding area. One of the other girls was there (her name is Marla) and we chatted as we waited patiently.
I was really excited to meet the two local anchors, Cynthia and Ron, because I had watched them every morning since I moved to Dallas. Cynthia had twins since I moved to Dallas, and I loved getting to watch her belly grow on TV. I felt like we would be fast friends if we ever got to meet in person, and Pat had told me that Cynthia is truly as genuine as she seems on TV.
When it was time for us to get settled in our seats, one of the techs came and got the three winners from the waiting room. What surprised me about the station is that it is really a lot smaller than you would expect: the whole space is probably only about 50 ft by 50 ft. The camera men have their cameras up on wheels that they maneuver around the space to make it look a lot bigger than it is, I guess.
They asked me to sit on the end of the row between the other winners and Cynthia. I was pretty excited, but super nervous. Cynthia gave us her prep-questions (in other words, she let us know what she was about to ask us about 5 minutes before we went on live). Did I say I was nervous? Yeah I think that's an understatement.
My hope through all of this was to just show God's glory. As much as you might think that's cheesy, that was honestly my only prayer through this entire thing. I wanted to be sure that I was truthful to our story, and that I recalled as much as possible to show people that God exists, and that He loves us, and that He cares about our details.
Cynthia had told us that this was going to be a 2.5 minute segment ("Like all of our segments" she said. Funny how much longer those seem when you're watching a news team bat the stories back and forth like pros). After she and Ron had finished the last little blip before the commercial break just prior to our interviews, Cynthia walked confidently over to her chair next to me and sat down.
"I have to tell you that I really enjoy watching you every morning," I told her.
"I made the mistake of reading all of your stories again this morning before I left the house," she told me, her eyes getting a little red underneath. "I cried the whole way to work."
While she was reading her question to me, I think she was trying not to cry. She made it through, though, and then we all went out on the patio and ate Girl Scout Cookies (true story).
And that was pretty much it. Alex and I went back into the waiting room and grabbed my bag, and then went to the car and headed home.
I was exhausted. As much as I love being able to share about Kaitlyn, I was really nervous about speaking publicly about our loss and as wonderful as it is to be able to share, it still doesn't bring her back. So with every big share, there is an equally great but painful moment behind closed doors that I experience. This time, at least, I had Alex in the car with me and he was driving so I was able to sit in the passenger seat and just process everything that had just happened.
Cynthia and me
Cynthia, Me, Marla Avery, and LaToya Brown
P.S. Don't think poor of me because I didn't post the whole interviews with the other winners on here. I am scared that the contract might apply with news clips, so I'm just posting my stuff.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
What this looks like
1.15.14
On Wednesday afternoon, I went to see Kate again. I had sent her an email the previous week when I got the call from Treasure You that I was a winner just letting her know that God is faithful. Her response was, "OMG God is so good!"
When I got to her office, we talked a little bit about the call and about what winning the contest meant for me. It meant that I was going to have to go on live TV and talk about Kaitlyn, something I had never, ever thought would come true.
"I've been thinking about what questions they might ask me," I told Kate. "And if I were them, I would ask something along the lines of 'Why did you enter the contest? What was the purpose?' And I think my answer is twofold:
First, I entered the contest to show what God has done for us: that He has truly lifted me up to tell our story and show His mercy and grace.
Second, I want to talk about Kaitlyn because people don't get to talk about stillbirths. Nobody talks about it. I want people to be able to talk about it if they need to, and not be ashamed that they are broken."
Kate looked at me for a second and then she said, "Amy, if you say that, you are giving millions of women permission to grieve."
It was one of those moments again, one of those heightened-awareness times where I feel like God is speaking to me, or that God spoke to me, right out of Kate's mouth.
For some time, I have been wondering what counseling is doing for me. At the beginning, I needed to sit and talk and process, and Alex didn't live with me (remember, he's active duty military and not stationed anywhere near Dallas) so I needed a sounding board. I needed Godly counsel. So God gave me Kate. But about a month before this, I started running out of things to talk about. I rarely would go to her office with a set agenda about things I needed to talk about like I did in the beginning. I use to have notes of incidents or questions or thoughts that I needed to talk through and get perspective one, and in the last month or so my list kept getting shorter. The result was that sometimes I was just quiet and Kate would ask questions to try to help me talk.
Honestly, it was probably since about week 12 that I started to lose steam in my counseling. Once that milestone passed, I'm not really sure why, but I stopped counting the weeks since Kaitlyn passed. I couldn't tell you right now how many weeks or days it has been. And I don't think that's selfish or a disservice to her, I think that she wants me to heal the best I can. There will always be a hole in my heart for what could have been, there will always be a piece of me in Heaven. But I don't think Kaitlyn would want me to be stuck in the same place for the rest of my life.
"I'm not sure what this looks like..." I started, hesitantly, making a motion with my hand between me and Kate. "I'm not sure what counseling looks like for me in the future."
Kate's eyes- I kid you not- lit up. "Don't just keep coming to see me as a form of codependency," she said. (What in the hell kind of counselor says that?) "The point is not for you to be in counseling for the rest of your life. I don't want you to see me once a week forever. But I want you to know that I'm here for you whenever you need me."
I nodded tentatively and said, "I need the appointment for next week, I need a prep for my business trip where I'll see a ton of people I haven't seen since I had Kaitlyn and I need help mentally preparing for that... But, after that, I may not come see you for a while. I think you've equipped me with some really good thoughts and help, and I know I'll probably need to come see you a few times when we get pregnant again, but I think I'm doing okay."
"I'm really proud of you," she said.
And with that, we had an end date for our time together for the foreseeable future.
On Wednesday afternoon, I went to see Kate again. I had sent her an email the previous week when I got the call from Treasure You that I was a winner just letting her know that God is faithful. Her response was, "OMG God is so good!"
When I got to her office, we talked a little bit about the call and about what winning the contest meant for me. It meant that I was going to have to go on live TV and talk about Kaitlyn, something I had never, ever thought would come true.
"I've been thinking about what questions they might ask me," I told Kate. "And if I were them, I would ask something along the lines of 'Why did you enter the contest? What was the purpose?' And I think my answer is twofold:
First, I entered the contest to show what God has done for us: that He has truly lifted me up to tell our story and show His mercy and grace.
Second, I want to talk about Kaitlyn because people don't get to talk about stillbirths. Nobody talks about it. I want people to be able to talk about it if they need to, and not be ashamed that they are broken."
Kate looked at me for a second and then she said, "Amy, if you say that, you are giving millions of women permission to grieve."
It was one of those moments again, one of those heightened-awareness times where I feel like God is speaking to me, or that God spoke to me, right out of Kate's mouth.
For some time, I have been wondering what counseling is doing for me. At the beginning, I needed to sit and talk and process, and Alex didn't live with me (remember, he's active duty military and not stationed anywhere near Dallas) so I needed a sounding board. I needed Godly counsel. So God gave me Kate. But about a month before this, I started running out of things to talk about. I rarely would go to her office with a set agenda about things I needed to talk about like I did in the beginning. I use to have notes of incidents or questions or thoughts that I needed to talk through and get perspective one, and in the last month or so my list kept getting shorter. The result was that sometimes I was just quiet and Kate would ask questions to try to help me talk.
Honestly, it was probably since about week 12 that I started to lose steam in my counseling. Once that milestone passed, I'm not really sure why, but I stopped counting the weeks since Kaitlyn passed. I couldn't tell you right now how many weeks or days it has been. And I don't think that's selfish or a disservice to her, I think that she wants me to heal the best I can. There will always be a hole in my heart for what could have been, there will always be a piece of me in Heaven. But I don't think Kaitlyn would want me to be stuck in the same place for the rest of my life.
"I'm not sure what this looks like..." I started, hesitantly, making a motion with my hand between me and Kate. "I'm not sure what counseling looks like for me in the future."
Kate's eyes- I kid you not- lit up. "Don't just keep coming to see me as a form of codependency," she said. (What in the hell kind of counselor says that?) "The point is not for you to be in counseling for the rest of your life. I don't want you to see me once a week forever. But I want you to know that I'm here for you whenever you need me."
I nodded tentatively and said, "I need the appointment for next week, I need a prep for my business trip where I'll see a ton of people I haven't seen since I had Kaitlyn and I need help mentally preparing for that... But, after that, I may not come see you for a while. I think you've equipped me with some really good thoughts and help, and I know I'll probably need to come see you a few times when we get pregnant again, but I think I'm doing okay."
"I'm really proud of you," she said.
And with that, we had an end date for our time together for the foreseeable future.
Teaser (with videos)
1.15.14
They aired this clip for the Treasure You contest the next day:
They aired this clip for the Treasure You contest the next day:
And I definitely have never spoken for NILMDTS in any kind of formal setting (facebook status updates don't count, and probably neither does this blog), but I would love to! Maybe these clips will help me do that one day.
I liked that they showed Pat telling the other winners that they were chosen, but it made me laugh that they didn't show mine. I pretty much just broke down in tears and couldn't speak for a few minutes. And I'm good with that.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Walking through L&D
1.14.15
I was sitting in my car outside the hospital that we delivered at, and I was feeling brave. I was early, like an hour early, for what I was there for, and I just felt like I wanted to go up to the second floor and see if anyone was around. And to walk through the halls where Kaitlyn was with us for her short time on earth.
I can't remember if I ever wrote about this or not, and like I've said before I never go back and edit any of my posts. On occasion, I will try to go back and figure out if I've talked about someone or an incident so I can know if I can just reference it or if I need to tell the whole story, but now there are over 100 blog posts and I don't want to read through them all to figure out if I've told it. So I'll tell it again and I assume someone will tell me I'm repeating myself eventually.
There is a nurse named Nell at our hospital. She called me the Monday before Kaitlyn's scheduled c-section to set up an appointment on Tuesday for me to come in and have my bloodwork drawn and to go over some pre-op things. Our appointment was for at noon on Tuesday so Alex met me at the hospital and we trekked up to the second floor along the same pathway that we would go on Wednesday morning for our official check-in.
Nell is a tall lady, taller than me, which is saying something, and very slim. She is probably late 50's or so, with short blonde hair and glasses. To be honest, Nell kind of rubbed me the wrong way when I very first met her.
My biggest fear with the c-section was that stupid epidural. I hated the idea of somebody sticking a big needle in my back and numbing me up so easily. Plus, I don't really take medications so I knew that the dosage they would give me was going to knock me down really easily. My second biggest fear was the Foley catheter. I work in healthcare, so I know what they do to get that stupid catheter in your bladder, and it's neither pretty or pleasant. When I told Nell I wasn't excited about that she said, "You'll be numb, it won't hurt!" I didn't give a hoot about the pain (I was going to do this all-natural in the first place, remember?) but I did care about my hoo-hah being out there for the whole dang room to see. Again, I work in healthcare and I realize that nobody in that room thinks twice about it, all bodies are really the same and eventually they all just blur together (unless you have a really interesting tattoo, then we might remember you), but still, this was my body.
Anyways, we went over the whole procedure in which I sat in the rocker with Alex right beside me and the whole time I was rocking the chair. I didn't need to hear about the procedure, I knew enough about it to be nervous and could probably draw a flowchart about everything that was about to happen.
"Is this an active baby?" Nell asked.
"Yes," I responded without hesitation. In my gut, I really answered a hesitant "yeah, but...", but since I had already been scolded about being silly about the Foley I decided not to admit it.
The rest of our meeting was pretty uneventful, I remember her handing me my pre-made chart and I signed away all the paperwork for the next morning. Nell escorted us out and told us she would stop by and say hello when she got to work the next day.
After Kaitlyn passed, Nell and Gail (my main nurse that was training Morgan), came to see Alex and I. They had brought a very sweet card and offered their condolences and hugs. I felt bad about responding to Nell the way I had at first, and we'll just blame that on crazy pregnancy hormones.
Back to the present: I was sitting in my car outside the hospital and I felt brave. I felt like I wanted to go up to the floor. I had been adamantly avoiding it every time I came to the hospital, but I felt like I wanted to go up there today.
So, I went in by the ER just like Alex and I had. I got on the elevators and took them to the second floor. My heart was beating really fast just remembering when I had been there last. I stepped off the elevators, took a left and then a right: passed the family waiting room for the OR, and ended at the nurses' station where we had checked in for our meeting with Nell and also for the surgery.
"Is Nell here today?" I asked the nurse at the desk.
"Yes she is, she's in the break room."
"Um... Can you tell her Amy M. is here? I'm a former patient of hers..." I had no idea if Nell would remember my name or not. I can tell you the name of every patient I have ever had a complication with, but I didn't know if she had seen so many people in her career that the worst ones don't stand out anymore.
The nurse went over to a break room I had just passed and poked her head in the door. A few minutes later, Nell came out. I was relieved and nervous to see her.
"Hi honey," she said as she gave me a big hug. "How are you?"
I told her that I was doing okay. I was dressed in scrubs and I had to remind her (or tell her for the first time) that I was a vendor for the hospital and actually came to work there once a week or so. She was surprised to see me, but she was excited.
"What are you doing to remember?" she asked as intertwined her fingers in front of her.
"I write." I admitted. "I write a lot. I have a blog. I don't know if Gail shared it with you or not..." She kind of shrugged, but told me that was really good.
"Gail's not here today, but I'll definitely tell her you came by. Carol is here, remember the CRNA that did your epidural?"
I laughed a little and told her I would love to see Carol if she had time. She called over to Carol's phone and Carol was busy with a patient, so I would need to wait around. I had told Nell that I wanted to walk over to postpartum and see if Amy (my day nurse) was working, so she pointed me in the right direction and told me I would have to go back downstairs and walk through the lobby to get back to where we were standing (remember, this is a big L&D hospital so they have some tight security). I walked over to postpartum and watched as a family rolled their newborn down the hall. I felt sad, but I didn't cry.
"Is Amy here today?" I asked another nurse at another nurse's station. Our room had been all the way down the left hall, the last door on the right. I thought about asking if I could walk down there and see the room, but I wasn't ready for that yet. I think it would have been too painful.
"She's not, but can I help you with something?" the nurse asked. Me wearing scrubs was throwing everybody off.
"Oh, no... I'm just... I'm a former patient of hers and I wanted to come say hi. I was here in September." I said kind of quietly.
The nurse looked at me and said, "Were you in room 217?" I don't remember why I knew my room number, but I did. I slowly nodded my head and said, "Yeah."
"She would want to hear from you, I'm sure she'll be sad she missed you." the nurse told me. "Would you like to leave her a note?"
I nodded I would, and out came the stack of yellow post-its. I dug a pen out of my bag and scrawled out something like this:
"Hi Amy, I was in the hospital for work and just wanted to come by and say Hi and get a hug. I would love to hear from you sometime! Big hugs, Amy M., aka 217, aka Kaitlyn's Momma." (It was only when I got back to Nell's side of the hospital that I realized I left no way for her to get a hold of me.)
I handed the post-it back to the nurse and got back on the elevators to go see Nell and Carol.
Nell asked if Amy had been there, and I told her that I had left her a note. "That's good, she'll really enjoy reading that. We don't ever get to hear from our patients again unless they come here for another birth."
"I know," I admitted. "In my last job I had a lot of patient follow-up, and its the thing I miss the most from that job to what I do now."
Nell poked her head in one of the rooms as I waited across the hall (Privacy acts and all, and I didn't really want to get more than I came here for). After a few minutes, Carol came out. I didn't remember this, but she also has short hair and today she wore a sparkly headband. She was younger than Nell by maybe 5-10 years or so.
"Hiiiii," she breathed as she gave me a big hug. "How are you?"
"I'm doing okay," I said. I went through the same story as I had gone through with Nell about being in the hospital and just wanting to come say hi.
"I thought about you so much and wondered how you were doing... You guys were just so strong, you and Alex (she called him by name without prompting), in the OR. I went home that night and told my husband you're story, I hope you don't mind."
"I don't mind at all, you've got to talk about it." I reassured her.
I told them about going to see Kate. And about having spots in my memory that I don't remember.
"What do you want to know?" asked Nell.
"Well, I don't really want to know anything else... I just..." I looked to Carol, "I didn't know they did CPR on her."
"They did?" Nell asked, looking from me to Carol. Carol nodded.
"I know, I don't understand why they did that." I said. Again, I've grown up around medicine and I know that if you have no clue how long someone has been down, there is a really slim chance that you are going to get them back. Plus, the fact that Kaitlyn's body had deteriorated so badly indicated that she had been down for a while because otherwise her body wouldn't have been in the state it was.
"I think they just really wanted to be sure, they wanted to know they did everything they could," said Carol.
"Well, I just didn't understand it. But its okay. Your memory (I was talking to Carol) and Alex's memory of that day are very different from mine just because I couldn't see everything."
"Are you going to try again?" one of them asked.
"Oh yes, and I have an appointment with Dr. L next week. We'll definitely be back here," I told them.
"That's good to hear!" said Nell. "A lot of people don't want to come back after they've had a tragedy like this."
"Are you kidding me? I'm so glad I was here. I was so blessed to be at this hospital. I was surrounded by people who knew what they were doing and who had our best interest at heart. I'm so thankful to Gail for recommending NILMDTS, Mallie did some great pictures and those are something we will treasure for the rest of our lives," I said.
"Well, when you come back you can request the same team to take care of you..." Nell leaned over and kind of whispered to me like a conspirator.
"We will do that! For sure!" I smiled back at her.
At that point, I needed to get back to the Cath Lab to do my job (that's kind of important), so I hugged Nell and Carol goodbye and headed out of the L&D Department.
I was sitting in my car outside the hospital that we delivered at, and I was feeling brave. I was early, like an hour early, for what I was there for, and I just felt like I wanted to go up to the second floor and see if anyone was around. And to walk through the halls where Kaitlyn was with us for her short time on earth.
I can't remember if I ever wrote about this or not, and like I've said before I never go back and edit any of my posts. On occasion, I will try to go back and figure out if I've talked about someone or an incident so I can know if I can just reference it or if I need to tell the whole story, but now there are over 100 blog posts and I don't want to read through them all to figure out if I've told it. So I'll tell it again and I assume someone will tell me I'm repeating myself eventually.
There is a nurse named Nell at our hospital. She called me the Monday before Kaitlyn's scheduled c-section to set up an appointment on Tuesday for me to come in and have my bloodwork drawn and to go over some pre-op things. Our appointment was for at noon on Tuesday so Alex met me at the hospital and we trekked up to the second floor along the same pathway that we would go on Wednesday morning for our official check-in.
Nell is a tall lady, taller than me, which is saying something, and very slim. She is probably late 50's or so, with short blonde hair and glasses. To be honest, Nell kind of rubbed me the wrong way when I very first met her.
My biggest fear with the c-section was that stupid epidural. I hated the idea of somebody sticking a big needle in my back and numbing me up so easily. Plus, I don't really take medications so I knew that the dosage they would give me was going to knock me down really easily. My second biggest fear was the Foley catheter. I work in healthcare, so I know what they do to get that stupid catheter in your bladder, and it's neither pretty or pleasant. When I told Nell I wasn't excited about that she said, "You'll be numb, it won't hurt!" I didn't give a hoot about the pain (I was going to do this all-natural in the first place, remember?) but I did care about my hoo-hah being out there for the whole dang room to see. Again, I work in healthcare and I realize that nobody in that room thinks twice about it, all bodies are really the same and eventually they all just blur together (unless you have a really interesting tattoo, then we might remember you), but still, this was my body.
Anyways, we went over the whole procedure in which I sat in the rocker with Alex right beside me and the whole time I was rocking the chair. I didn't need to hear about the procedure, I knew enough about it to be nervous and could probably draw a flowchart about everything that was about to happen.
"Is this an active baby?" Nell asked.
"Yes," I responded without hesitation. In my gut, I really answered a hesitant "yeah, but...", but since I had already been scolded about being silly about the Foley I decided not to admit it.
The rest of our meeting was pretty uneventful, I remember her handing me my pre-made chart and I signed away all the paperwork for the next morning. Nell escorted us out and told us she would stop by and say hello when she got to work the next day.
After Kaitlyn passed, Nell and Gail (my main nurse that was training Morgan), came to see Alex and I. They had brought a very sweet card and offered their condolences and hugs. I felt bad about responding to Nell the way I had at first, and we'll just blame that on crazy pregnancy hormones.
Back to the present: I was sitting in my car outside the hospital and I felt brave. I felt like I wanted to go up to the floor. I had been adamantly avoiding it every time I came to the hospital, but I felt like I wanted to go up there today.
So, I went in by the ER just like Alex and I had. I got on the elevators and took them to the second floor. My heart was beating really fast just remembering when I had been there last. I stepped off the elevators, took a left and then a right: passed the family waiting room for the OR, and ended at the nurses' station where we had checked in for our meeting with Nell and also for the surgery.
"Is Nell here today?" I asked the nurse at the desk.
"Yes she is, she's in the break room."
"Um... Can you tell her Amy M. is here? I'm a former patient of hers..." I had no idea if Nell would remember my name or not. I can tell you the name of every patient I have ever had a complication with, but I didn't know if she had seen so many people in her career that the worst ones don't stand out anymore.
The nurse went over to a break room I had just passed and poked her head in the door. A few minutes later, Nell came out. I was relieved and nervous to see her.
"Hi honey," she said as she gave me a big hug. "How are you?"
I told her that I was doing okay. I was dressed in scrubs and I had to remind her (or tell her for the first time) that I was a vendor for the hospital and actually came to work there once a week or so. She was surprised to see me, but she was excited.
"What are you doing to remember?" she asked as intertwined her fingers in front of her.
"I write." I admitted. "I write a lot. I have a blog. I don't know if Gail shared it with you or not..." She kind of shrugged, but told me that was really good.
"Gail's not here today, but I'll definitely tell her you came by. Carol is here, remember the CRNA that did your epidural?"
I laughed a little and told her I would love to see Carol if she had time. She called over to Carol's phone and Carol was busy with a patient, so I would need to wait around. I had told Nell that I wanted to walk over to postpartum and see if Amy (my day nurse) was working, so she pointed me in the right direction and told me I would have to go back downstairs and walk through the lobby to get back to where we were standing (remember, this is a big L&D hospital so they have some tight security). I walked over to postpartum and watched as a family rolled their newborn down the hall. I felt sad, but I didn't cry.
"Is Amy here today?" I asked another nurse at another nurse's station. Our room had been all the way down the left hall, the last door on the right. I thought about asking if I could walk down there and see the room, but I wasn't ready for that yet. I think it would have been too painful.
"She's not, but can I help you with something?" the nurse asked. Me wearing scrubs was throwing everybody off.
"Oh, no... I'm just... I'm a former patient of hers and I wanted to come say hi. I was here in September." I said kind of quietly.
The nurse looked at me and said, "Were you in room 217?" I don't remember why I knew my room number, but I did. I slowly nodded my head and said, "Yeah."
"She would want to hear from you, I'm sure she'll be sad she missed you." the nurse told me. "Would you like to leave her a note?"
I nodded I would, and out came the stack of yellow post-its. I dug a pen out of my bag and scrawled out something like this:
"Hi Amy, I was in the hospital for work and just wanted to come by and say Hi and get a hug. I would love to hear from you sometime! Big hugs, Amy M., aka 217, aka Kaitlyn's Momma." (It was only when I got back to Nell's side of the hospital that I realized I left no way for her to get a hold of me.)
I handed the post-it back to the nurse and got back on the elevators to go see Nell and Carol.
Nell asked if Amy had been there, and I told her that I had left her a note. "That's good, she'll really enjoy reading that. We don't ever get to hear from our patients again unless they come here for another birth."
"I know," I admitted. "In my last job I had a lot of patient follow-up, and its the thing I miss the most from that job to what I do now."
Nell poked her head in one of the rooms as I waited across the hall (Privacy acts and all, and I didn't really want to get more than I came here for). After a few minutes, Carol came out. I didn't remember this, but she also has short hair and today she wore a sparkly headband. She was younger than Nell by maybe 5-10 years or so.
"Hiiiii," she breathed as she gave me a big hug. "How are you?"
"I'm doing okay," I said. I went through the same story as I had gone through with Nell about being in the hospital and just wanting to come say hi.
"I thought about you so much and wondered how you were doing... You guys were just so strong, you and Alex (she called him by name without prompting), in the OR. I went home that night and told my husband you're story, I hope you don't mind."
"I don't mind at all, you've got to talk about it." I reassured her.
I told them about going to see Kate. And about having spots in my memory that I don't remember.
"What do you want to know?" asked Nell.
"Well, I don't really want to know anything else... I just..." I looked to Carol, "I didn't know they did CPR on her."
"They did?" Nell asked, looking from me to Carol. Carol nodded.
"I know, I don't understand why they did that." I said. Again, I've grown up around medicine and I know that if you have no clue how long someone has been down, there is a really slim chance that you are going to get them back. Plus, the fact that Kaitlyn's body had deteriorated so badly indicated that she had been down for a while because otherwise her body wouldn't have been in the state it was.
"I think they just really wanted to be sure, they wanted to know they did everything they could," said Carol.
"Well, I just didn't understand it. But its okay. Your memory (I was talking to Carol) and Alex's memory of that day are very different from mine just because I couldn't see everything."
"Are you going to try again?" one of them asked.
"Oh yes, and I have an appointment with Dr. L next week. We'll definitely be back here," I told them.
"That's good to hear!" said Nell. "A lot of people don't want to come back after they've had a tragedy like this."
"Are you kidding me? I'm so glad I was here. I was so blessed to be at this hospital. I was surrounded by people who knew what they were doing and who had our best interest at heart. I'm so thankful to Gail for recommending NILMDTS, Mallie did some great pictures and those are something we will treasure for the rest of our lives," I said.
"Well, when you come back you can request the same team to take care of you..." Nell leaned over and kind of whispered to me like a conspirator.
"We will do that! For sure!" I smiled back at her.
At that point, I needed to get back to the Cath Lab to do my job (that's kind of important), so I hugged Nell and Carol goodbye and headed out of the L&D Department.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Disturbing
1.11.14-1.12.14
That Saturday, I grabbed Jenny and went shopping. I was in desperate need of a make-over since I had been told that we would have a live news event. We were suppose to meet Pat at the studio to be announced as the three winners of the Treasure You contest. I was pretty excited, but like I said, my whole wardrobe consisted of maternity and pre-maternity (aka skinny me) clothes. None of that on TV, please.
The whole weekend, I started getting nervous. R had emailed the three of us and asked for photos to go along with the news stories, so Alex and I combed over a few of our NILMDTS pictures and picked out a few of those to send in. In the back of my mind, I was a little worried about the reaction that might solicit from people. I wanted to think that everyone would be so heartbroken by our story that nobody would ever say anything hurtful about our daughter, but I also wasn't that naive.
We live in a world of social media. That can be a really good thing, or a really bad thing. NILMDTS has a facebook page, and soon after Kaitlyn's death I "liked" it so that I could see the updates from the organization, and it also allows me to see when others comment on the page. Most of the time, its other moms who have used the service and wanted to thank the organization for giving them a gift that can never be repaid.
"These pictures are disturbing." she wrote. "I am 32 weeks pregnant and this came up as a 'suggested site' on facebook. These pictures should be private, they are disturbing and sad. There are kids on the internet and they shouldn't be subjected to pictures of dead babies."
This poor mom had stumbled across the NILMDTS website and had voiced my biggest fear: that people would not appreciate having pictures (however beautiful and tastefully done) of dead babies forced on them.
To this day, I still do not have our pictures of Kaitlyn up on either of our facebook pages. Its not really that different from my pregnancy, only one sonogram picture ever made it on facebook and that's only because Alex thought she looked like she was doing a chin-up or something athletic and just had to post it. The only pictures I have shared have been on this blog, and that way if you look at them that's your own fault and I didn't force them on you (but my God we made a beautiful baby girl!).
What followed after that comment was a string of moms defending the organization and their rights to post their pictures wherever the hell they wanted to. I didn't really care, but I worried what pictures the news cast would chose to show and what people's reactions to those pictures would be.
But you know what, the Devil is a liar. He constantly uses our biggest fears to intimidate us away from taking hold of a situation and relying fully on God to take care of it. After everything I'd been through, you would think I would have learned that God is always in the details, and His plan for us is always good.
That Saturday, I grabbed Jenny and went shopping. I was in desperate need of a make-over since I had been told that we would have a live news event. We were suppose to meet Pat at the studio to be announced as the three winners of the Treasure You contest. I was pretty excited, but like I said, my whole wardrobe consisted of maternity and pre-maternity (aka skinny me) clothes. None of that on TV, please.
The whole weekend, I started getting nervous. R had emailed the three of us and asked for photos to go along with the news stories, so Alex and I combed over a few of our NILMDTS pictures and picked out a few of those to send in. In the back of my mind, I was a little worried about the reaction that might solicit from people. I wanted to think that everyone would be so heartbroken by our story that nobody would ever say anything hurtful about our daughter, but I also wasn't that naive.
We live in a world of social media. That can be a really good thing, or a really bad thing. NILMDTS has a facebook page, and soon after Kaitlyn's death I "liked" it so that I could see the updates from the organization, and it also allows me to see when others comment on the page. Most of the time, its other moms who have used the service and wanted to thank the organization for giving them a gift that can never be repaid.
"These pictures are disturbing." she wrote. "I am 32 weeks pregnant and this came up as a 'suggested site' on facebook. These pictures should be private, they are disturbing and sad. There are kids on the internet and they shouldn't be subjected to pictures of dead babies."
This poor mom had stumbled across the NILMDTS website and had voiced my biggest fear: that people would not appreciate having pictures (however beautiful and tastefully done) of dead babies forced on them.
To this day, I still do not have our pictures of Kaitlyn up on either of our facebook pages. Its not really that different from my pregnancy, only one sonogram picture ever made it on facebook and that's only because Alex thought she looked like she was doing a chin-up or something athletic and just had to post it. The only pictures I have shared have been on this blog, and that way if you look at them that's your own fault and I didn't force them on you (but my God we made a beautiful baby girl!).
What followed after that comment was a string of moms defending the organization and their rights to post their pictures wherever the hell they wanted to. I didn't really care, but I worried what pictures the news cast would chose to show and what people's reactions to those pictures would be.
But you know what, the Devil is a liar. He constantly uses our biggest fears to intimidate us away from taking hold of a situation and relying fully on God to take care of it. After everything I'd been through, you would think I would have learned that God is always in the details, and His plan for us is always good.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
The Moments After
1.9.14
I sat in the empty conference room and waited. Mostly, I stared out the wall-sized glass windows at the building next door and relived every moment of the last 15 minutes with Pat. Suddenly, somebody opened the door.
"Are you alone in here?" she asked. Her name was M and she was another petite lady, probably mid-thirties, with dark brown hair that fell around her face.
"Yeah," I shrugged. "I'm use to it, I don't have any family around Dallas."
"Oh." she said, as she came in and sat down next to me.
"I read your entry into the contest," she started, rather quietly. "We received thousands. I sat down and started reading it at about midnight, and I was still crying over it when I came in the next morning. I couldn't even tell them what you had written about, I just handed it over to them and told them they had to read it."
I wasn't really sure who "they" were, but I appreciated her telling me that.
"It must have been awful living through that," she added.
"It was," I agreed. "But its okay, there is a purpose in it all. I know that for sure."
She nodded and got up and hugged me. "Thank you for being here today, your story has touched our whole office." And with that, she also left.
I sat for a few more minutes as I waited for somebody to come back and tell me what I was suppose to do next. I kept hearing these excited yells from down the hall, but I still hadn't put it all together. Eventually, R came back and asked me to follow her.
She took me back to the kitchen that we had passed through between the initial interview and the second interview. I had commented when we were walking through that it looked like they were celebrating somebody's birthday because there were balloons and party trays of cookies strung throughout the kitchen. Now, I found out that the party was to celebrate the three winners of the "Overcomers" contest. We all stood around and took pictures with Pat for her website and media coverage, and she gave us each a bouquet of beautiful flowers and a few pieces of jewelry from her personal line. (Per the contest contract, I can't share what either of the other two winners' stories were, but one was a pretty severe bout with cancer and the other was sexual assault resulting in two pregnancies years apart.)
Of course, I had to take a photo with just me and Pat to be sure that I could include in this blog!
I sat in the empty conference room and waited. Mostly, I stared out the wall-sized glass windows at the building next door and relived every moment of the last 15 minutes with Pat. Suddenly, somebody opened the door.
"Are you alone in here?" she asked. Her name was M and she was another petite lady, probably mid-thirties, with dark brown hair that fell around her face.
"Yeah," I shrugged. "I'm use to it, I don't have any family around Dallas."
"Oh." she said, as she came in and sat down next to me.
"I read your entry into the contest," she started, rather quietly. "We received thousands. I sat down and started reading it at about midnight, and I was still crying over it when I came in the next morning. I couldn't even tell them what you had written about, I just handed it over to them and told them they had to read it."
I wasn't really sure who "they" were, but I appreciated her telling me that.
"It must have been awful living through that," she added.
"It was," I agreed. "But its okay, there is a purpose in it all. I know that for sure."
She nodded and got up and hugged me. "Thank you for being here today, your story has touched our whole office." And with that, she also left.
I sat for a few more minutes as I waited for somebody to come back and tell me what I was suppose to do next. I kept hearing these excited yells from down the hall, but I still hadn't put it all together. Eventually, R came back and asked me to follow her.
She took me back to the kitchen that we had passed through between the initial interview and the second interview. I had commented when we were walking through that it looked like they were celebrating somebody's birthday because there were balloons and party trays of cookies strung throughout the kitchen. Now, I found out that the party was to celebrate the three winners of the "Overcomers" contest. We all stood around and took pictures with Pat for her website and media coverage, and she gave us each a bouquet of beautiful flowers and a few pieces of jewelry from her personal line. (Per the contest contract, I can't share what either of the other two winners' stories were, but one was a pretty severe bout with cancer and the other was sexual assault resulting in two pregnancies years apart.)
Of course, I had to take a photo with just me and Pat to be sure that I could include in this blog!
Isn't she fabulous?
That stupid sticker
1.9.13
After I had finished doing my initial interview with the two guys, R came back into the room at a dizzying pace with a full entourage in-tow.
"We need to get you ready to meet Pat." She said with a flourish as another guy came at me with a personal microphone to clip on my sweater. I had picked out a black swoop-neck shirt and a hot pink sweater to wear for the day, the colors were absolutely what Kaitlyn would have picked out. "I like your outfit," commented R.
"Thanks, I had to go shopping after you called me yesterday," I admitted.
"Well, I'm glad I didn't call you today!" she replied back, rather surprised at my confession. I would have had to wear either scrubs or maternity clothes if she had called that day, neither of which sounded particularly appealing.
"Yeah I picked this out yesterday and did a triple-look-over to make sure I didn't leave any of those dumb stickers with the size on them!" I kept talking (ugh).
That's when the mic guy chimed in.
"Since you brought it up, there's an L sticker under your left armpit."
Of course there is! Good grief.
I started laughing and peeled it off as we got my mic all situated and then we headed back through the room of cubicles and pacing phone people, through a kitchen and into the main lobby of the office. They filmed me walking down the hall to meet Pat (why?) and then asked me to wait for a few minutes until they were ready to bring me into the room. I stood awkwardly outside the glass wall where I knew Pat was on the other side, even though half of it was frosted so you couldn't clearly see who was on the other side. I waited, and waited, and finally, they told me, "Pat's ready for you now."
After I had finished doing my initial interview with the two guys, R came back into the room at a dizzying pace with a full entourage in-tow.
"We need to get you ready to meet Pat." She said with a flourish as another guy came at me with a personal microphone to clip on my sweater. I had picked out a black swoop-neck shirt and a hot pink sweater to wear for the day, the colors were absolutely what Kaitlyn would have picked out. "I like your outfit," commented R.
"Thanks, I had to go shopping after you called me yesterday," I admitted.
"Well, I'm glad I didn't call you today!" she replied back, rather surprised at my confession. I would have had to wear either scrubs or maternity clothes if she had called that day, neither of which sounded particularly appealing.
"Yeah I picked this out yesterday and did a triple-look-over to make sure I didn't leave any of those dumb stickers with the size on them!" I kept talking (ugh).
That's when the mic guy chimed in.
"Since you brought it up, there's an L sticker under your left armpit."
Of course there is! Good grief.
I started laughing and peeled it off as we got my mic all situated and then we headed back through the room of cubicles and pacing phone people, through a kitchen and into the main lobby of the office. They filmed me walking down the hall to meet Pat (why?) and then asked me to wait for a few minutes until they were ready to bring me into the room. I stood awkwardly outside the glass wall where I knew Pat was on the other side, even though half of it was frosted so you couldn't clearly see who was on the other side. I waited, and waited, and finally, they told me, "Pat's ready for you now."
Meeting Pat Smith
1.9.13
"Hi Amy," she said. "I've been waiting all day to meet you."
Pat Smith is one of the most stunning people I've ever seen. Sure, you have your movie stars, and your models, but there was something about her beauty, even on the morning that I saw her on the news and hadn't even met her in person yet, that is just... striking.
She's petite (about 5'3" if I had to guess), but wore some monster heels that made you wonder how she learned to walk in them. She wore a blue and black dress with long sleeves, and her hair fell down around her face.
"Come in and sit down!" she said as she ushered me into the conference room. Straight in front of me where glass windows from ceiling to floor, and to the right was a large wooden table used for meetings for the group. Along the table was another camera man, some people taking notes, and two additional camera men to give different perspectives to the filming.
I was nervous with just boomstick and hand-held camera guy.
"I'm so excited you're finally here!" Pat said as we settled in to talk.
"It is SO cool that I'm here," I agreed with her. "Its a total God thing."
She smiled and said, "Why did you enter this contest?"
I shook my head and said, "You know, Pat, I was watching the news that Monday morning like I always do and I saw you and heard you ask for submissions and... I don't know, I just felt the Holy Spirit come over me to tell me this was important."
"Okay, for those who don't know what the Holy Spirit feels like when He speaks, can you describe it?" She asked.
"It's a really strange feeling... Its like, a heightened sense of awareness. Its the hair on the back of your neck standing up and something inside you just says, 'This is important.' I'm not even really sure what will come of this, but I know that it was important for me to be here, today. It was important for me to meet you."
"Absolutely," she confirmed, nodding her head. "And what brings you hear today? What have you overcome?"
I literally shudder every time somebody uses that word when it comes to Kaitlyn. I know that I entered a contest for "overcomers", but I absolutely abhor that word when it comes to Kaitlyn. I didn't overcome her, I didn't overcome her birth. I did (am constantly?) overcome intense misery, pain, and loss, but I would chose to use a different word when describing that.
Now that I had done the warm-up interview, I knew where I wanted to start. I told her about the day we found out we were pregnant, about our heartache knowing that Alex would miss the entire pregnancy and most likely the birth, and then I told the story of her sweet little heart not beating on the ultrasound.
It was at this point, that Pat, sweet woman that she is, let a single tear run down her cheek as she nodded at the pain I was recalling.
I had finished telling our story and waited for her to ask another question. I had made it through this round without crying.
"You know," she said, "Emmitt and I miscarried our first. I was early, way earlier than you. But it was the first time I saw Emmitt cry." She stared down at her piece of paper as she told me the story. "But to give you hope, we went on to have two beautiful daughters, but there is still nothing that compares to that pain."
I nodded and agreed with her, and expressed my condolences for her loss as well. We continued to talk and I even told her the story of Kate and how Kate didn't finish her application (and I was a total weenie and called Kate a "good girl friend" instead of "counselor" or "therapist"). When I told of how Kate had nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders and said, "That wasn't meant for me," Pat's response was to stop looking at her paper and look me straight in the eye and say, "That's a good girl friend." Yes. Kate is an awesome girl friend.
She shook off her sad face and then looked around the room and asked if anyone else had any questions. There were two more:
"What would you tell Mom's who have been through this and future moms that may be afraid that this will happen to them?" she asked the first question.
"Well for Mom's that this has happened to: there is always purpose in the pain. You may not see it, and it may take a while for you to glimpse part of it. But even my cousin who passed away 21 years ago is still affecting the world around her life," I started. "And as for women who might be scared that this will happen to them..." I shook my head as I talked, "You just have to give that up to God. One of the beautiful things about our story is that I did everything right. I took my prenatal vitamins, I ate a salad every day for the first trimester, I was diligent about seeing my doctor. I did everything right. And this still happened. You have to give that worry up to God, because you're not in control anyways."
"If you could ask God for one thing and you knew it would be given to you, what would you ask him for?" she asked me, the second question posed by the audience.
I sat for a minute and thought... What would I ask God for? Anything? It was such a strange question, one meant for happier times with a thousand and one answers varying from "to live forever" to "a million dollars" or even "a book deal."
"You know," I said, finally reaching my decision, "I think I'd ask Him for twins."
"Twins?!" she said, giving me the you-might-be-crazy look.
"Yeah, twins. I know you probably thought that I was going to ask for Kaitlyn back, but that wasn't what God had planned for her. And who am I to say that my plan is better than God's? No... I'd just ask for twins next go 'round."
At this point, Pat just shook her head at the table. Then she kind of started mumbling to herself, and she said, "I'm sorry I had to put you all through this, I just had to be sure, but... You're a winner. You're one of my three winners."
That was my cue to just start crying again. I thought I had heard R wrong on the phone, I had doubted it for a minute, and given in to whatever God had in store for me, and here He was lifting me up again.
I was completely blown away. Pat jumped up and started hugging on me and then said, "We get to have lunch with Robin Roberts!"
And with that, she was whisked away with all the camera men following her and I was left in the conference room by myself.
"Hi Amy," she said. "I've been waiting all day to meet you."
Pat Smith is one of the most stunning people I've ever seen. Sure, you have your movie stars, and your models, but there was something about her beauty, even on the morning that I saw her on the news and hadn't even met her in person yet, that is just... striking.
She's petite (about 5'3" if I had to guess), but wore some monster heels that made you wonder how she learned to walk in them. She wore a blue and black dress with long sleeves, and her hair fell down around her face.
"Come in and sit down!" she said as she ushered me into the conference room. Straight in front of me where glass windows from ceiling to floor, and to the right was a large wooden table used for meetings for the group. Along the table was another camera man, some people taking notes, and two additional camera men to give different perspectives to the filming.
I was nervous with just boomstick and hand-held camera guy.
"I'm so excited you're finally here!" Pat said as we settled in to talk.
"It is SO cool that I'm here," I agreed with her. "Its a total God thing."
She smiled and said, "Why did you enter this contest?"
I shook my head and said, "You know, Pat, I was watching the news that Monday morning like I always do and I saw you and heard you ask for submissions and... I don't know, I just felt the Holy Spirit come over me to tell me this was important."
"Okay, for those who don't know what the Holy Spirit feels like when He speaks, can you describe it?" She asked.
"It's a really strange feeling... Its like, a heightened sense of awareness. Its the hair on the back of your neck standing up and something inside you just says, 'This is important.' I'm not even really sure what will come of this, but I know that it was important for me to be here, today. It was important for me to meet you."
"Absolutely," she confirmed, nodding her head. "And what brings you hear today? What have you overcome?"
I literally shudder every time somebody uses that word when it comes to Kaitlyn. I know that I entered a contest for "overcomers", but I absolutely abhor that word when it comes to Kaitlyn. I didn't overcome her, I didn't overcome her birth. I did (am constantly?) overcome intense misery, pain, and loss, but I would chose to use a different word when describing that.
Now that I had done the warm-up interview, I knew where I wanted to start. I told her about the day we found out we were pregnant, about our heartache knowing that Alex would miss the entire pregnancy and most likely the birth, and then I told the story of her sweet little heart not beating on the ultrasound.
It was at this point, that Pat, sweet woman that she is, let a single tear run down her cheek as she nodded at the pain I was recalling.
I had finished telling our story and waited for her to ask another question. I had made it through this round without crying.
"You know," she said, "Emmitt and I miscarried our first. I was early, way earlier than you. But it was the first time I saw Emmitt cry." She stared down at her piece of paper as she told me the story. "But to give you hope, we went on to have two beautiful daughters, but there is still nothing that compares to that pain."
I nodded and agreed with her, and expressed my condolences for her loss as well. We continued to talk and I even told her the story of Kate and how Kate didn't finish her application (and I was a total weenie and called Kate a "good girl friend" instead of "counselor" or "therapist"). When I told of how Kate had nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders and said, "That wasn't meant for me," Pat's response was to stop looking at her paper and look me straight in the eye and say, "That's a good girl friend." Yes. Kate is an awesome girl friend.
She shook off her sad face and then looked around the room and asked if anyone else had any questions. There were two more:
"What would you tell Mom's who have been through this and future moms that may be afraid that this will happen to them?" she asked the first question.
"Well for Mom's that this has happened to: there is always purpose in the pain. You may not see it, and it may take a while for you to glimpse part of it. But even my cousin who passed away 21 years ago is still affecting the world around her life," I started. "And as for women who might be scared that this will happen to them..." I shook my head as I talked, "You just have to give that up to God. One of the beautiful things about our story is that I did everything right. I took my prenatal vitamins, I ate a salad every day for the first trimester, I was diligent about seeing my doctor. I did everything right. And this still happened. You have to give that worry up to God, because you're not in control anyways."
"If you could ask God for one thing and you knew it would be given to you, what would you ask him for?" she asked me, the second question posed by the audience.
I sat for a minute and thought... What would I ask God for? Anything? It was such a strange question, one meant for happier times with a thousand and one answers varying from "to live forever" to "a million dollars" or even "a book deal."
"You know," I said, finally reaching my decision, "I think I'd ask Him for twins."
"Twins?!" she said, giving me the you-might-be-crazy look.
"Yeah, twins. I know you probably thought that I was going to ask for Kaitlyn back, but that wasn't what God had planned for her. And who am I to say that my plan is better than God's? No... I'd just ask for twins next go 'round."
At this point, Pat just shook her head at the table. Then she kind of started mumbling to herself, and she said, "I'm sorry I had to put you all through this, I just had to be sure, but... You're a winner. You're one of my three winners."
That was my cue to just start crying again. I thought I had heard R wrong on the phone, I had doubted it for a minute, and given in to whatever God had in store for me, and here He was lifting me up again.
I was completely blown away. Pat jumped up and started hugging on me and then said, "We get to have lunch with Robin Roberts!"
And with that, she was whisked away with all the camera men following her and I was left in the conference room by myself.
The Boomstick
1.9.14 (Part I)
I walked into the glass building just off the North Dallas Tollway with a strange sense of peace. I had been thinking all day about where to start when telling our story, and I thought I had found an acceptable starting place.
As I got off the elevator, I ran into a girl with long, curly black hair that looked at me and said, "Are you Amy?" (I guess they were expecting me!)
"Yes ma'am," I replied to the girl who was probably 5 years younger than me. Those old West-Texas manners coming out.
"Follow me." She said as she started to walk down the hallway. "How are you today?" She asked.
"Nervous," I admitted.
"Don't be. Miss Pat is really nice. But I was super nervous the day I came to do my job interview, too."
She lead me through a room filled with cubicles where maybe 10-15 people were on the phone talking to people. It kind of reminded me of those scenes of the stock market in movies, where all the cubicles are in one location and various team members have headsets on and are up pacing as they have their important business conversations.
She ushered me into a 10x10 room with white walls and some fabulous decor. I was asked to wait there until R could come meet with me (this is the same woman that had called me the day before to tell me I was a winner... wait finalist... well something). The girl who had met me off the elevator disappeared for just a minute and came back with some paperwork.
"This is for you to fill out," she said as she pushed a packet of 5 papers across the table to me.
Basically, it was an agreement to allow the Treasure You organization to use any of the pictures we provided and any of the video they took of me in any way they felt like. That was totally fine with me since I had made sure that Alex was okay with me sharing the pictures I had brought with me (all of them were the ones that Mallie took, but we didn't chose to release ALL of the pictures. There are still a good number that have been only for the eyes of our closes friends and family and have never made it on the blog or anywhere public. And that's the way it will stay).
The last piece of paper caused me some heartburn. It was a paper stating that anything that happened during the interview process was not to be discussed outside of the walls of the building.
Really? But... I write this blog. This silly blog that helps me cope and share our story and put God's glory up on a stage out in the world of the internet. I sat there and read it a few times trying to make it say something different. I had just written on Monday my experience with hearing about the Treasure You contest, and now on Thursday I was being told that I couldn't share the amazement that had overtaken me in that God was being faithful in His speaking to me.
To be honest, I nearly walked out. I nearly, nearly pushed the unsigned paper back on the desk and walked out. I spent a good 5 minutes texting Alex trying to explain to him my dilemma, but in the midst of all that I felt this wave of thought (I'm going to call it that because it wasn't a logical conclusion to my anguish and it basically overtook my thoughts completely out of nowhere.): Do you trust Me?
Amy, Do you trust Me? The thought came through again.
Crap. I was being called out. The thought continued Why do you think I would have brought you this far and I wouldn't take care of the details to come?
Crap. My human short-sightedness had nearly caused me to leave a place where God had CLEARLY orchestrated me ending up.
I signed the paper and waited.
I had a good 15 minutes before R came in the room, plenty of time to take in all the details of the walls in the room. To my left was a clock hung about shoulder height and around it on the wall was painted to make the face look like it belonged to a Grandfather clock. I thought that was pretty clever.
To the right was a wall made up entirely of pictures. Pictures of families. Pictures of kids. Christmas cards pictures. Thank you notes. All kinds of things. I took my time staring at each of the pictures and wondering what kind of connections they had to this office. Were they friends of team members? Were they people who had benefited from the generosity of the charities?
Then R came in the room. She was probably in her mid-forties, with blonde hair and really thick eyelashes. She came in and welcomed me with a big hug.
"We don't shake hands around here, we hug." She said as she took her seat across the white table from me. "How are you feeling? Nervous?"
"For sure," I replied. "Would you be the person that I would ask about this contract?" I asked before I could really stop myself.
"Yes," She said, somewhat inquisitively.
"Well... I'd just like some clarification. You see, I write a blog... And I just wanted to know if I could write about this experience on my blog..." I stumbled along, hoping that I wasn't about to get the answer that was so clearly written out on the piece of paper.
"Oh that's totally fine!" she smiled. "That contract means you can't write about the other people who are here. And they can't write about you. So you're not allowed to share their story and they're not allowed to share yours. Make sense?"
I breathed a huge sigh of relief. And immediately felt silly for getting so worked up over the contract in the first place.
"Any other questions?" She asked as I shook my head "no". "Well, we're really glad you're here! I loved reading your entry... You know we all have our favorites that we're cheering for around here..."
I didn't really know what she meant by that- that she was cheering for me or that maybe she had another person she had connected more with. I didn't ask for clarification.
"You didn't bring any family with you?" she asked.
"No, my family doesn't live in Dallas." I replied.
"Well, we're excited you're here and we're going to get started. The camera guys will be in here shortly to talk to you." And with that, she exited.
Another 5 minutes went by as I started staring at the chandelier that was in the room. Somebody had really done a great job making this room non-threatening for those of us getting thrown into situations we really had no business in.
The next thing I knew, two guys came in the room: one was armed with a 5 ft long boomstick and the other held his DSLR camera equipped with a special lens for filming. Their names were Danny and Wesley.
Danny was probably mid-forties as and wore glasses. Wesley was younger, maybe 30s, and was sitting looking at the back of the camera to make sure he had the right angle. They sat down after they had introduced themselves, and then we were off to the races.
"Why are you here?" the first point-blank question they asked.
I had spent the last 24 hours in constant prayer trying to figure out what all God was going to use me to say during this time. I didn't know what to expect, but I had thought about what questions I would ask if the situation were reversed. I had hoped to get a warm-up question, but it looked like we were diving in right off the bat.
"Well... I'm here because I lost my daughter to stillbirth on September 18th..." I started. My heart was racing about 900 beats a minute.
"But maybe I should back up a little bit." I started over, taking a deep breath and trying to slow down my tongue. "I suppose it all started a year ago. Nearly to the day. It was this time last year, we found out we were pregnant..."
I told the story of how Alex and I had been trying for a few months to start our family, and how we kept missing that crucial window and were somewhat disappointed with the realization that we wouldn't get pregnant before he deployed for his second tour. I told the story of how Alex never saw a live picture of his daughter, and that every sonogram and heartbeat sound was recorded on my phone and sent to him via email and iMessage (thank you, GOD, for putting us in a time period where we have such awesome technology!). I told the story of Kaitlyn sitting breech, and our scheduled c-section because she was stubborn as hell.
I told the story of going to the hospital with the carseat in the back of the Tahoe. I told the story of seeing that first image of the sonogram with her heart perfectly still, frozen on the screen. At this point, I had to stop.
You see, even though I have written the story several time from my memories of that day, I still haven't actually told the story verbally. I haven't let those images run out of my mouth in the same way that I have let them come out of my fingers on the keyboard. I really have only told the story once: to Kate, because I hadn't sent her a link to my blog for her to read it herself. And even if I had, she wouldn't have read it because it was really crucial to me in the early appointments to verbally talk about my daughter. To talk about those images. To talk about the operating room. To talk about the smells and the sounds.
I closed my eyes for a minute and let the tears that had come run down my face. I had a package of kleenexes in my bag, but at that moment I wanted to be raw. I wanted to let my absolute brokeness be caught on camera. I needed the world to see that my God had taken my broken heart, life, family, and made it beautiful. I felt the droplets run down my chin and drop into my lap. I made no apologies for the tears. No quick, "I'm sorry" as I reached down for my bag. I just sat with my eyes closed.
When I opened my eyes to continue the story I saw that Danny the boomstick guy was fighting back the tears. His chin quivered a little bit, and the bottom rim of his eyes were red with the onslaught of emotion.
I cocked my head a little to the side and nodded at him, letting him know he was okay to let the tears come. He shook his head and whispered, "Keep going."
And so I did. I kept talking for another 10 minutes about all of the grace that God has allowed me. How he has opened my eyes to the beauty in His orchestration of Alex getting home in time to meet her and to go through this together. How He had softened the blows in tiny details long before Kaitlyn passed- such as leaving her name out of all the books in the nursery. Or us choosing to have all of the things in the nursery unisex for our "future kids", not knowing that the one I was carrying would never be among the ranks here on Earth.
When I was done, I paused. Danny put down the boomstick and cleared his throat.
"I need just a minute," he said. It was at this time, since my tears had dried on my cheeks for the last few minutes, that I reached down and dug out a tissue pack. I gave him one first, since he was still fighting back the tears, and then took one for myself to try to clean up the tear streaks a little bit.
"The reason I'm crying," he said in a soft whisper, staring down at the kleenex, "Is that my wife and I experienced the same thing."
His words sat in the air for a few minutes before I was able to say, "I'm so sorry for your loss."
He nodded his head. "There is nothing worse." He cleared his throat then, and squared his shoulders and said, "But today isn't about me, its about you."
"Its about all of us," I corrected him.
I walked into the glass building just off the North Dallas Tollway with a strange sense of peace. I had been thinking all day about where to start when telling our story, and I thought I had found an acceptable starting place.
As I got off the elevator, I ran into a girl with long, curly black hair that looked at me and said, "Are you Amy?" (I guess they were expecting me!)
"Yes ma'am," I replied to the girl who was probably 5 years younger than me. Those old West-Texas manners coming out.
"Follow me." She said as she started to walk down the hallway. "How are you today?" She asked.
"Nervous," I admitted.
"Don't be. Miss Pat is really nice. But I was super nervous the day I came to do my job interview, too."
She lead me through a room filled with cubicles where maybe 10-15 people were on the phone talking to people. It kind of reminded me of those scenes of the stock market in movies, where all the cubicles are in one location and various team members have headsets on and are up pacing as they have their important business conversations.
She ushered me into a 10x10 room with white walls and some fabulous decor. I was asked to wait there until R could come meet with me (this is the same woman that had called me the day before to tell me I was a winner... wait finalist... well something). The girl who had met me off the elevator disappeared for just a minute and came back with some paperwork.
"This is for you to fill out," she said as she pushed a packet of 5 papers across the table to me.
Basically, it was an agreement to allow the Treasure You organization to use any of the pictures we provided and any of the video they took of me in any way they felt like. That was totally fine with me since I had made sure that Alex was okay with me sharing the pictures I had brought with me (all of them were the ones that Mallie took, but we didn't chose to release ALL of the pictures. There are still a good number that have been only for the eyes of our closes friends and family and have never made it on the blog or anywhere public. And that's the way it will stay).
The last piece of paper caused me some heartburn. It was a paper stating that anything that happened during the interview process was not to be discussed outside of the walls of the building.
Really? But... I write this blog. This silly blog that helps me cope and share our story and put God's glory up on a stage out in the world of the internet. I sat there and read it a few times trying to make it say something different. I had just written on Monday my experience with hearing about the Treasure You contest, and now on Thursday I was being told that I couldn't share the amazement that had overtaken me in that God was being faithful in His speaking to me.
To be honest, I nearly walked out. I nearly, nearly pushed the unsigned paper back on the desk and walked out. I spent a good 5 minutes texting Alex trying to explain to him my dilemma, but in the midst of all that I felt this wave of thought (I'm going to call it that because it wasn't a logical conclusion to my anguish and it basically overtook my thoughts completely out of nowhere.): Do you trust Me?
Amy, Do you trust Me? The thought came through again.
Crap. I was being called out. The thought continued Why do you think I would have brought you this far and I wouldn't take care of the details to come?
Crap. My human short-sightedness had nearly caused me to leave a place where God had CLEARLY orchestrated me ending up.
I signed the paper and waited.
I had a good 15 minutes before R came in the room, plenty of time to take in all the details of the walls in the room. To my left was a clock hung about shoulder height and around it on the wall was painted to make the face look like it belonged to a Grandfather clock. I thought that was pretty clever.
To the right was a wall made up entirely of pictures. Pictures of families. Pictures of kids. Christmas cards pictures. Thank you notes. All kinds of things. I took my time staring at each of the pictures and wondering what kind of connections they had to this office. Were they friends of team members? Were they people who had benefited from the generosity of the charities?
Then R came in the room. She was probably in her mid-forties, with blonde hair and really thick eyelashes. She came in and welcomed me with a big hug.
"We don't shake hands around here, we hug." She said as she took her seat across the white table from me. "How are you feeling? Nervous?"
"For sure," I replied. "Would you be the person that I would ask about this contract?" I asked before I could really stop myself.
"Yes," She said, somewhat inquisitively.
"Well... I'd just like some clarification. You see, I write a blog... And I just wanted to know if I could write about this experience on my blog..." I stumbled along, hoping that I wasn't about to get the answer that was so clearly written out on the piece of paper.
"Oh that's totally fine!" she smiled. "That contract means you can't write about the other people who are here. And they can't write about you. So you're not allowed to share their story and they're not allowed to share yours. Make sense?"
I breathed a huge sigh of relief. And immediately felt silly for getting so worked up over the contract in the first place.
"Any other questions?" She asked as I shook my head "no". "Well, we're really glad you're here! I loved reading your entry... You know we all have our favorites that we're cheering for around here..."
I didn't really know what she meant by that- that she was cheering for me or that maybe she had another person she had connected more with. I didn't ask for clarification.
"You didn't bring any family with you?" she asked.
"No, my family doesn't live in Dallas." I replied.
"Well, we're excited you're here and we're going to get started. The camera guys will be in here shortly to talk to you." And with that, she exited.
Another 5 minutes went by as I started staring at the chandelier that was in the room. Somebody had really done a great job making this room non-threatening for those of us getting thrown into situations we really had no business in.
The next thing I knew, two guys came in the room: one was armed with a 5 ft long boomstick and the other held his DSLR camera equipped with a special lens for filming. Their names were Danny and Wesley.
Danny was probably mid-forties as and wore glasses. Wesley was younger, maybe 30s, and was sitting looking at the back of the camera to make sure he had the right angle. They sat down after they had introduced themselves, and then we were off to the races.
"Why are you here?" the first point-blank question they asked.
I had spent the last 24 hours in constant prayer trying to figure out what all God was going to use me to say during this time. I didn't know what to expect, but I had thought about what questions I would ask if the situation were reversed. I had hoped to get a warm-up question, but it looked like we were diving in right off the bat.
"Well... I'm here because I lost my daughter to stillbirth on September 18th..." I started. My heart was racing about 900 beats a minute.
"But maybe I should back up a little bit." I started over, taking a deep breath and trying to slow down my tongue. "I suppose it all started a year ago. Nearly to the day. It was this time last year, we found out we were pregnant..."
I told the story of how Alex and I had been trying for a few months to start our family, and how we kept missing that crucial window and were somewhat disappointed with the realization that we wouldn't get pregnant before he deployed for his second tour. I told the story of how Alex never saw a live picture of his daughter, and that every sonogram and heartbeat sound was recorded on my phone and sent to him via email and iMessage (thank you, GOD, for putting us in a time period where we have such awesome technology!). I told the story of Kaitlyn sitting breech, and our scheduled c-section because she was stubborn as hell.
I told the story of going to the hospital with the carseat in the back of the Tahoe. I told the story of seeing that first image of the sonogram with her heart perfectly still, frozen on the screen. At this point, I had to stop.
You see, even though I have written the story several time from my memories of that day, I still haven't actually told the story verbally. I haven't let those images run out of my mouth in the same way that I have let them come out of my fingers on the keyboard. I really have only told the story once: to Kate, because I hadn't sent her a link to my blog for her to read it herself. And even if I had, she wouldn't have read it because it was really crucial to me in the early appointments to verbally talk about my daughter. To talk about those images. To talk about the operating room. To talk about the smells and the sounds.
I closed my eyes for a minute and let the tears that had come run down my face. I had a package of kleenexes in my bag, but at that moment I wanted to be raw. I wanted to let my absolute brokeness be caught on camera. I needed the world to see that my God had taken my broken heart, life, family, and made it beautiful. I felt the droplets run down my chin and drop into my lap. I made no apologies for the tears. No quick, "I'm sorry" as I reached down for my bag. I just sat with my eyes closed.
When I opened my eyes to continue the story I saw that Danny the boomstick guy was fighting back the tears. His chin quivered a little bit, and the bottom rim of his eyes were red with the onslaught of emotion.
I cocked my head a little to the side and nodded at him, letting him know he was okay to let the tears come. He shook his head and whispered, "Keep going."
And so I did. I kept talking for another 10 minutes about all of the grace that God has allowed me. How he has opened my eyes to the beauty in His orchestration of Alex getting home in time to meet her and to go through this together. How He had softened the blows in tiny details long before Kaitlyn passed- such as leaving her name out of all the books in the nursery. Or us choosing to have all of the things in the nursery unisex for our "future kids", not knowing that the one I was carrying would never be among the ranks here on Earth.
When I was done, I paused. Danny put down the boomstick and cleared his throat.
"I need just a minute," he said. It was at this time, since my tears had dried on my cheeks for the last few minutes, that I reached down and dug out a tissue pack. I gave him one first, since he was still fighting back the tears, and then took one for myself to try to clean up the tear streaks a little bit.
"The reason I'm crying," he said in a soft whisper, staring down at the kleenex, "Is that my wife and I experienced the same thing."
His words sat in the air for a few minutes before I was able to say, "I'm so sorry for your loss."
He nodded his head. "There is nothing worse." He cleared his throat then, and squared his shoulders and said, "But today isn't about me, its about you."
"Its about all of us," I corrected him.
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