5.4.14
That Sunday was a typical Sunday: Alex and I got up and went to early church at 9:30, went and grabbed something to eat, and then came home. Being in that first trimester, I took a lot of naps, but Alex is very much a go-getter and doesn't tend to nap that much.
Alex left to go run some errands, and I had decided to lay down on the couch with the dogs close by. I had barely shut my eyes when my phone dinged that I had a text message. I laid there for a minute, seriously debating whether it was worth getting up or not, but finally decided that I would see what my mom (who I assumed was texting me) wanted.
My phone has a lock on it so when I get a text I only see the name of the person but not the body of the text on the screen. The alert hadn't been caused by my mom, but instead my friend Kristen, which was a little strange because just honestly didn't text that much.
Kristen: I felt you would want to know that my sweet friend Allison's son Tate passed away this morning.
I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. What? I read that text twice before I was just overcome with grief for her. I immediately started crying hysterically because this just didn't make any sense.
Me: OH MY GOSH WHAT HAPPENED?!
I can't stop crying. I don't know what to do- I am so heartbroken
I can not imagine her pain
Kristen: I know I'm beyond sick...
He fell off his top bunk and somehow got stuck between the bunk and the wall. Poor Allison found him.
I felt completely sick. I sat on the couch in the silence of the house and just wailed for Allison. How could this have happened? This is a mistake. This is a huge mistake. Not that woman that sat across from me and shared her pain of losing her firstborn so suddenly. Not the family that had been so active in our church and loving on other people's kids. Not the woman that had been my inspiration in my grief.
Surely, surely, surely... This was a mistake. I texted Alex and asked him to hurry home, that I had gotten some bad news about a friend. I didn't even wait for him to make it into the house from our attached garage, but met him as he got out of the car and just sobbed on him. I have no idea what he thought, but I told him the story of what had happened to Tate.
I was out of it the rest of the day. I could NOT stop crying thinking about my sweet friend and the horror that she was living in... again. I tried to lay down to calm down, but I couldn't rest. We went to our couple's Bible study that afternoon and I sat there and cried, telling the group the story of who Allison is and what had happened. I admitted that I was not going to be able to contribute that day because I just felt empty.
I never met Tate, but I loved him through loving Allison. There's a term for the baby that comes after a loss that Hope Mommies use: its called a "rainbow baby." My current baby that is steadily growing in my tummy is our rainbow baby, and Tate was Allison's rainbow baby. Its the child that comes after the worst loss you could imagine. Its the sign that God is faithful. Its the promise that God is with us.
As a mom of stillbirth, there's a part of me that thinks that surely that is the worst of it. If I can say hello and goodbye to my daughter in the same breath, surely, I can survive anything. Health issues don't scare me. Saying goodbye to those who have lived on this earth any significant amount of time doesn't scare me. I thought that there was nothing left that could scare me.
But I was wrong, so wrong... In those few days immediately after Tate passed away, I cried spontaneously, mourning along with my friend. I cried for Tate's short life (he was only 4, about to turn 5), I cried for his sister, who was 3. I cried for his mom and dad, for the grandparents saying goodbye to another grandson. I cried for his school friends, his teachers. The loss of life that was so unexpected and so dark.
I cried for the loss of innocence of anyone that knew the family. There's such an illusion around our lives that we control so many things: how we drive, what roads we take, what alarm system we have on our house. But this loss... This loss that happened in the heart of a home surrounded so much by love and outlined with the grace of a previous loss. I know how much Allison had to have loved both her kids because she knew what it was like to say goodbye too early. I knew that she and her husband had rejoiced so much when Tate took his first breath on this earth: the restoration of a family that had been too long in the making. I anticipate the joys that I will be able to relate with her with as we watch our second child take their first steps, say their first words, and develop their personality.
It was also strange for me to be on this side of the grief. With all the other Hope Moms, I felt empowered to at least know what do to. I've been blessed to be able to give nearly ever mom I've heard about a Hope Box, and its something tangible for me to do in that moment of grief. It makes me feel better, like I can ease their pain somehow just by giving them a simple gift and connecting them to others.
With Allison, I felt loss. I could in no way console her. I couldn't relate to her loss. I have no idea what it is like to love and protect a life for a period of time only to have it ripped from you unexpectedly.
I didn't know what to say.
So instead, I let God do the talking.
Kaitlyn
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Allison's Story
I mentioned once that a lady named Allison had reached out to me in the first days of our loss of Kaitlyn. Going back, I feel like I did not finish telling the story of our friendship and how much she meant to me.
I went back in my emails, and Allison had emailed me on September 26, 8 days after we lost Kaitlyn:
When I first read Allison's words, I burst into tears. Finally, someone had come out of the darkness to say first, that they knew what I was going through, and second, that there was hope for other children in the future. I couldn't even tell Alex what I had read, I just spun the computer screen around for him to read it himself. Suddenly, I wasn't alone.
Since that email, we had talked back and forth a few times, and eventually we were able to meet for coffee one Sunday afternoon. We met at a Starbucks close to the church, and she told me the story of Tanner.
Her story, like so many others that I have heard since then, was that they lost him suddenly, with no time to prepare. She listened as I cried through Kaitlyn's story, barely 2 weeks out from losing her. I asked her questions, the deep, personal kinds about grief and how you manage to keep breathing after going through this. She shared her pain with me, but also gave me that glimpse of hope: she had two healthy kids after Tanner, one boy and one girl. She laughed a little as she told me about her second pregnancy, which was also a little boy, who they ended up naming Tate. Without disclosing too much of her privacy, both of her boys had the initials T.L.C., which I loved! She laughed as she said that she had prayed and wept for a child so badly after losing Tanner, and then Tate came along and he was just a pistol. One of those boys that you could never hope to (or want to) contain.
"I believe that God allowed this to happen to Tanner so that I could eventually share his story with others, with you, and to encourage you that God is faithful and He will restore your family," she had said to me at the end of our conversation.
Even then, I looked at Allison, the original "Hope Mom" in my life before I even knew about Hope Mommies, and I knew that is what I wanted my grief to look like. As much as it hurt, and still hurts, Allison was 5 years out from her loss and using Tanner's story for nothing but good. She walked through, in my opinion, one of the worst forms of loss on the planet and yet she still found hope. She set the example for me for what I wanted to look like in 5 years. I wanted to be that beacon of truth and hope in the incredibly dark world of infant loss.
Periodically, Allison would text me every now and then to check in on me and let me know she was thinking about me and praying for me. I let her know when I was pregnant, and like all the women who understand, she completely empathized with the dual feelings of joy and pain. She understood, never assumed or asked anything else of me, but was always around like the big sister that had moved away to college.
I went back in my emails, and Allison had emailed me on September 26, 8 days after we lost Kaitlyn:
Hi Amy!
My name is Allison and I was given your name by Kristen. I attend Hope as well…and I was so sorry to hear about your recent loss. 5 years ago, we encountered the same thing with our firstborn. At 37 weeks, I learned he was no longer with us even though 2 days before ,his sonogram showed a perfectly healthy little guy. We have had a journey since then, but through God’s unfailing love, I was able to hold onto Hope. Literally…that is why we started attending Hope ( just because of the name) …because that was all I had at the time.
I would LOVE to meet with you when or if you feel up to it. One of the things I searched for after my loss was someone to talk to. My pastor sent me to someone who had recently gone through a loss…but they had lost theirs at 12 weeks, not 37. Granted, a loss is HUGE but I felt alone in finding someone closer to my situation.
I feel that I was allowed this journey so that I COULD help others. When or if you are ever ready, I would love to talk, let you talk, cry, sob…or whatever else. Hope to talk to you soon! In the meantime, I am praying for your peace and for your strength to hold on to hope. There is hope! We have 2 beautiful healthy children now.
Hopefully we will get to talk soon,
When I first read Allison's words, I burst into tears. Finally, someone had come out of the darkness to say first, that they knew what I was going through, and second, that there was hope for other children in the future. I couldn't even tell Alex what I had read, I just spun the computer screen around for him to read it himself. Suddenly, I wasn't alone.
Since that email, we had talked back and forth a few times, and eventually we were able to meet for coffee one Sunday afternoon. We met at a Starbucks close to the church, and she told me the story of Tanner.
Her story, like so many others that I have heard since then, was that they lost him suddenly, with no time to prepare. She listened as I cried through Kaitlyn's story, barely 2 weeks out from losing her. I asked her questions, the deep, personal kinds about grief and how you manage to keep breathing after going through this. She shared her pain with me, but also gave me that glimpse of hope: she had two healthy kids after Tanner, one boy and one girl. She laughed a little as she told me about her second pregnancy, which was also a little boy, who they ended up naming Tate. Without disclosing too much of her privacy, both of her boys had the initials T.L.C., which I loved! She laughed as she said that she had prayed and wept for a child so badly after losing Tanner, and then Tate came along and he was just a pistol. One of those boys that you could never hope to (or want to) contain.
"I believe that God allowed this to happen to Tanner so that I could eventually share his story with others, with you, and to encourage you that God is faithful and He will restore your family," she had said to me at the end of our conversation.
Even then, I looked at Allison, the original "Hope Mom" in my life before I even knew about Hope Mommies, and I knew that is what I wanted my grief to look like. As much as it hurt, and still hurts, Allison was 5 years out from her loss and using Tanner's story for nothing but good. She walked through, in my opinion, one of the worst forms of loss on the planet and yet she still found hope. She set the example for me for what I wanted to look like in 5 years. I wanted to be that beacon of truth and hope in the incredibly dark world of infant loss.
Periodically, Allison would text me every now and then to check in on me and let me know she was thinking about me and praying for me. I let her know when I was pregnant, and like all the women who understand, she completely empathized with the dual feelings of joy and pain. She understood, never assumed or asked anything else of me, but was always around like the big sister that had moved away to college.
Kristin's wedding
5.3.14
The next week went by in a haze of waiting and work. I hit the blessed 12 week mark on May 1st, and we announced our pregnancy to the world (on Facebook, of course).
The next week went by in a haze of waiting and work. I hit the blessed 12 week mark on May 1st, and we announced our pregnancy to the world (on Facebook, of course).
I was pretty proud of the way our announcement came out, since I spent the evening drawing and re-drawing and googling how to make it stand out more.
May 3rd came quickly. I was really excited because I knew two things would happen that day: first, that I would link back to this post, which, in retrospect, probably could have had a better title; and secondly, my good friend Kristin was getting married that evening!
Kristin was one of the first friends I made when I first moved to Dallas. We had joined Hope Fellowship about the same time, and over the last 6 years (I still can't believe it's been that long) we saw each other on a regular basis through church and Bible studies. We loved each other through break-ups, job changes, deployments, and house purchases. So when she told me that her long-time boyfriend had proposed, I was ecstatic for her.
At the actual ceremony, one of the verses they had read really stuck with me. I don't remember which part of the vows it was read at, but I do remember I grabbed my phone to make a note of it (sorry Kristin!):
2 Corinthians 1:9-10
NIV first, because I think that's the version that was read:
"Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death.
But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves
but on God, who raises the dead.
He has delivered us from such a deadly peril,
and he will deliver us again. On him we have set
our hope that he will continue to deliver us."
Now the Common English Bible version, because that's what I read most:
"It certainly seemed to us as if we had gotten the death penalty.
This was so that we would have confidence in God,
who raises the dead,
instead of ourselves.
God rescued us from a terrible death,
and he will rescue us. We have set our hope on him
that he will rescue us again."
I don't remember in what context this verse came up, but I sure related to it. I loved that Kristin had decided to include such a challenging verse in her wedding ceremony. Most people want to play up the sweet side of marriage, but here Kristin had chosen to also remember that things may get hard, and that their focus and hope should remain on God.
After the ceremony, we headed over to the reception. Kristin works at a large hotel chain as an event planner, so you know her hotel pulled out all the stops to celebrate with her! Alex and I were seated with a few of the couples from mine and Kristin's Bible study, and we had a great time getting to know some of the spouses of the fantastic ladies I have loved for the last two years.
Alex and I before the wedding, he gets more handsome every
time I look at him.
Kristin, Stephanie, Nancy, Jennifer, and me.
I realized as I searched back through the blog for stories for each of these ladies that I have done each of them a severe disservice in not writing about the love that they have shown me (and continue to show me).
I have to take a quick sidebar here and tell a story on Jennifer because it is still a running joke in our house to this day. She is one of the absolute bubbliest people you will ever meet on the planet, and some of her stories will make you fall out of your chair laughing.
In the first few months (and even now), people had no idea what to say to me about Kaitlyn. Most people just offered condolences, and then quickly changed the subject to something else, or they would quietly slip off feeling that there was nothing else they could say or do to help the situation. I was still home and hadn't gone back to work yet, and I got a voicemail from a number I didn't recognize. This had to be in the first week or so after we lost K, because my mom was washing dishes in the sink when I finally listened to the message. (I really, really wish I had a sound clip of this message... Enough that I may just go find my old phone to see if it's still on there.)
"Hi Amy, its Jenn. I was just calling because I've been thinking about you and praying for you and you just cross my mind all the time. And I always think about calling you, but then I think, 'Oh, she's probably watching Ellen and she's busy...'"
Okay, I am still laughing out lout at this because I'm still wondering why in the heck watching Ellen qualifies me as being busy- or why she even thinks/knows I watch Ellen on occasion! It was the funniest message in the time of my grief, and I literally busted out laughing at her when I first listened to it.
Back at the reception: Kristin had set up a photo booth, so I have to share those pictures as well:
Yeah. These are my ladies.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Baby Showers
4/26/14
That evening, one of my friends from college had invited us to a couple's baby shower. Liz (not this Liz, but another one), is pregnant and due in June. She's having a little girl.
She had been kind enough to invite me to her women's-only-traditional baby shower, but I just couldn't do it. I decided immediately when I opened the card that I wouldn't be able to go because she's having a little girl: which means a lot of pink, and a lot of really cute outfits. And as much as I love my friend, I was worried that I would break down and start crying like I did at Christmas while I watched her tear the paper off of her gifts.
So, when Liz's friend had texted me to invite us to the couple's baby shower, I immediately jumped on it. That was a safe zone: I could have Alex with me and we could leave if I needed to and I wouldn't feel embarrassed.
After we met Chris and Audra for lunch, we needed to go pick up something for Liz for the shower. We decided to go to Buy Buy Baby, which is where we had registered for Kaitlyn. I know I probably should have seen it coming, but the store is so convenient to the house and after driving a little distance away for lunch I was looking for convenience.
When we entered the store, they had tons of onsies for Mother's Day there to greet you before you even made it into the actual store. That took a minute for me to force myself to look away because they were just so dang cute.
We b-lined it to the back of the store where some of the essentials like diapers and such were, and that's when I saw the baby bouncer that we had for Kaitlyn sitting on the shelf as a display.
It nearly took my breath away, and I felt the wave of grief coming on strong. I snuck into an isle of the store and took deep breaths, really not wanting to cry but knowing it was coming anyways.
Alex and I put that bouncer together the day before Kaitlyn arrived. Alex had wanted to register for the best bouncer that we could find, so this one did all kinds of rocking motions and played music, and even had a port where you could plug in your iPhone to play your own music. We had sat in the living room together with my Mom and put it together while we were waiting on the time to come for us to go to the pre-op appointment. It was before Nell asked me if I had an active baby. It was before I knew that Kaitlyn wasn't going to come home.
The strangest thing about seeing that bouncer was the joy it brought back. It was almost if for the last 6 months I had been walking in this fog of grief and I hadn't remembered how excited I was for Kaitlyn to get here. I loved her, absolutely, no question about that. But the excitement of getting everything ready- it was that flood of emotion that I wasn't expecting at all.
Alex had stopped beside me to see what was wrong and if we were done yet (men...) when he noticed that I was trying not to cry. He pulled me into a hug and just let me cry for a minute like he did in those early stages of grief.
I finally pulled it together enough to make our way to the check-out, but in the car on the way home I got a reaction that I wasn't quite expecting.
Me: Phew that was rough. That was harder than I expected.
Alex: Why?
Me: Because that was the bouncer we'd picked out for Kaitlyn.
Alex: ... Yes?
Me: It just reminded me of K and made me miss her really badly
Alex: Sometimes it just feels like you are letting that sadness take over the joy of this baby.
I didn't really know what to say, but I know I told him he was wrong. It's just a weird feeling to have one of your kids, who you planned for and loved and anticipated, gone before they ever got started. And as much as I am joyous about this pregnancy, I couldn't look at some of the things in that store without thinking of Kaitlyn.
And I know that's okay. This is just one of those examples of how Alex and I differ in our grief. Alex has always been able (and told to) compartmentalize areas of his life: the things he saw in Iraq and Afghanistan pretty much stayed there. He rarely opens up the various compartments of his life to where they overflow, but for me they all melt and flow together.
Yes, I am thrilled to be pregnant again. No, this baby will never replace Kaitlyn. Yes, I will celebrate this child because he/she is still my flesh and blood; a miracle and a blessing. No, I probably won't be completely fine even when this child gets here safely.
There will always be a part of my heart that mourns for Kaitlyn, my firstborn. But even in the very beginning of my grief, I decided that I would not let her death define me. I knew from that first week that she would never have wanted it that way, and would want me to love our future children as recklessly as I love her. But at the same time, there will always be that hole in my heart where she belongs.
That evening, one of my friends from college had invited us to a couple's baby shower. Liz (not this Liz, but another one), is pregnant and due in June. She's having a little girl.
She had been kind enough to invite me to her women's-only-traditional baby shower, but I just couldn't do it. I decided immediately when I opened the card that I wouldn't be able to go because she's having a little girl: which means a lot of pink, and a lot of really cute outfits. And as much as I love my friend, I was worried that I would break down and start crying like I did at Christmas while I watched her tear the paper off of her gifts.
So, when Liz's friend had texted me to invite us to the couple's baby shower, I immediately jumped on it. That was a safe zone: I could have Alex with me and we could leave if I needed to and I wouldn't feel embarrassed.
After we met Chris and Audra for lunch, we needed to go pick up something for Liz for the shower. We decided to go to Buy Buy Baby, which is where we had registered for Kaitlyn. I know I probably should have seen it coming, but the store is so convenient to the house and after driving a little distance away for lunch I was looking for convenience.
When we entered the store, they had tons of onsies for Mother's Day there to greet you before you even made it into the actual store. That took a minute for me to force myself to look away because they were just so dang cute.
We b-lined it to the back of the store where some of the essentials like diapers and such were, and that's when I saw the baby bouncer that we had for Kaitlyn sitting on the shelf as a display.
It nearly took my breath away, and I felt the wave of grief coming on strong. I snuck into an isle of the store and took deep breaths, really not wanting to cry but knowing it was coming anyways.
Alex and I put that bouncer together the day before Kaitlyn arrived. Alex had wanted to register for the best bouncer that we could find, so this one did all kinds of rocking motions and played music, and even had a port where you could plug in your iPhone to play your own music. We had sat in the living room together with my Mom and put it together while we were waiting on the time to come for us to go to the pre-op appointment. It was before Nell asked me if I had an active baby. It was before I knew that Kaitlyn wasn't going to come home.
The strangest thing about seeing that bouncer was the joy it brought back. It was almost if for the last 6 months I had been walking in this fog of grief and I hadn't remembered how excited I was for Kaitlyn to get here. I loved her, absolutely, no question about that. But the excitement of getting everything ready- it was that flood of emotion that I wasn't expecting at all.
Alex had stopped beside me to see what was wrong and if we were done yet (men...) when he noticed that I was trying not to cry. He pulled me into a hug and just let me cry for a minute like he did in those early stages of grief.
I finally pulled it together enough to make our way to the check-out, but in the car on the way home I got a reaction that I wasn't quite expecting.
Me: Phew that was rough. That was harder than I expected.
Alex: Why?
Me: Because that was the bouncer we'd picked out for Kaitlyn.
Alex: ... Yes?
Me: It just reminded me of K and made me miss her really badly
Alex: Sometimes it just feels like you are letting that sadness take over the joy of this baby.
I didn't really know what to say, but I know I told him he was wrong. It's just a weird feeling to have one of your kids, who you planned for and loved and anticipated, gone before they ever got started. And as much as I am joyous about this pregnancy, I couldn't look at some of the things in that store without thinking of Kaitlyn.
And I know that's okay. This is just one of those examples of how Alex and I differ in our grief. Alex has always been able (and told to) compartmentalize areas of his life: the things he saw in Iraq and Afghanistan pretty much stayed there. He rarely opens up the various compartments of his life to where they overflow, but for me they all melt and flow together.
Yes, I am thrilled to be pregnant again. No, this baby will never replace Kaitlyn. Yes, I will celebrate this child because he/she is still my flesh and blood; a miracle and a blessing. No, I probably won't be completely fine even when this child gets here safely.
There will always be a part of my heart that mourns for Kaitlyn, my firstborn. But even in the very beginning of my grief, I decided that I would not let her death define me. I knew from that first week that she would never have wanted it that way, and would want me to love our future children as recklessly as I love her. But at the same time, there will always be that hole in my heart where she belongs.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Telling Audra
4.25.14-4.26.14
On Saturday, Chris and Audra had agreed to meet us halfway between our houses to catch up and have a meal together. We try to do this about every month or at least every other month, but it had been a while since we'd seen them.
On Friday, Audra texted me to make sure we were still good to meet, and we chatted about where we would eat and what time. Then, the inevitable text came:
Audra: No baby news for us yet; what about y'all?
I can tell you, I literally sat there and debated for a good 10 minutes about what to tell her. I had really wanted to tell her and Chris together in person, but at the same time, lying to her when she had outright asked didn't feel right. It felt like I was misleading her and it would make it harder when we told them the next day. I went back and forth about telling and not telling, and then finally decided to be honest and to tell her because maybe this is what she needed. Maybe she needed to know when we weren't in person, so she was free to cry if she needed to and not felt bad about doing so. Again, I would never assume to know the complexities of struggling to get pregnant and watching nearly everyone around you get pregnant, but I know what it is to be waiting and hoping and praying that you would be pregnant. I know a teeny tiny slice of that pain of hearing that someone you love is expecting, and wondering why it couldn't be you, too.
Me: Since you asked- we have news... I really wanted to tell you in person... (I did it as gently as I could over text
Audra: !!!! Yay!!! Don't worry, I'll let Chris be surprised!! I'm just a nosy butt-in-ski!! I am SO happy!!
Me: You are so amazing- I know that part of your heart hurts because I know a small part of that pain. I'm so sorry, but I know that yours will come soon!!!
Audra: I read on the blog where you thought you were and I got to wondering. You are incredibly sensitive and thoughtful, but I assure you my heart is full of joy!
Me: Yes sister you are the reason I haven't written in a while- I wanted to be sure we honored you and Chris and your little one by telling you in person and not via blog/Facebook
Audra: And here I go with the texting... Sorry! But please, I'd rather know ASAP and have that much more time to be excited with you!! How far along?
Me: 11 weeks and 1 day
Audra: Wow! What an incredible blessing! Angels are rejoicing at your faithfulness and hope in our God.
We went on to talk about seeing each other tomorrow, and I could genuinely feel her happiness through her words. By now, you've got a pretty good idea of how amazing my sister-in-law is, and no, you can't have her.
The next day when we were able to sit down with Audra and Chris, I kept trying to find the right time to tell him that we were expecting again. Towards the end of the meal, I finally looked at Alex and just came out with it. Chris' first reaction was to look at Audra, which is completely understandable, and then told us congratulations. I know I told them both how sorry I was that their baby wasn't here yet, and I rubbed on Audra's arm as she started to tear up a little bit. After a second, she shook her head and said, "This is not about me! This is about y'all!"
I know after we left that both Audra and Chris probably sat and talked in the parking lot for a while. I know that they are extremely happy and joyful for us, but I also know that they are aching for their turn to have baby news.
But just as God has been faithful to us, I know that God will also be faithful to them.
On Saturday, Chris and Audra had agreed to meet us halfway between our houses to catch up and have a meal together. We try to do this about every month or at least every other month, but it had been a while since we'd seen them.
On Friday, Audra texted me to make sure we were still good to meet, and we chatted about where we would eat and what time. Then, the inevitable text came:
Audra: No baby news for us yet; what about y'all?
I can tell you, I literally sat there and debated for a good 10 minutes about what to tell her. I had really wanted to tell her and Chris together in person, but at the same time, lying to her when she had outright asked didn't feel right. It felt like I was misleading her and it would make it harder when we told them the next day. I went back and forth about telling and not telling, and then finally decided to be honest and to tell her because maybe this is what she needed. Maybe she needed to know when we weren't in person, so she was free to cry if she needed to and not felt bad about doing so. Again, I would never assume to know the complexities of struggling to get pregnant and watching nearly everyone around you get pregnant, but I know what it is to be waiting and hoping and praying that you would be pregnant. I know a teeny tiny slice of that pain of hearing that someone you love is expecting, and wondering why it couldn't be you, too.
Me: Since you asked- we have news... I really wanted to tell you in person... (I did it as gently as I could over text
Audra: !!!! Yay!!! Don't worry, I'll let Chris be surprised!! I'm just a nosy butt-in-ski!! I am SO happy!!
Me: You are so amazing- I know that part of your heart hurts because I know a small part of that pain. I'm so sorry, but I know that yours will come soon!!!
Audra: I read on the blog where you thought you were and I got to wondering. You are incredibly sensitive and thoughtful, but I assure you my heart is full of joy!
Me: Yes sister you are the reason I haven't written in a while- I wanted to be sure we honored you and Chris and your little one by telling you in person and not via blog/Facebook
Audra: And here I go with the texting... Sorry! But please, I'd rather know ASAP and have that much more time to be excited with you!! How far along?
Me: 11 weeks and 1 day
Audra: Wow! What an incredible blessing! Angels are rejoicing at your faithfulness and hope in our God.
We went on to talk about seeing each other tomorrow, and I could genuinely feel her happiness through her words. By now, you've got a pretty good idea of how amazing my sister-in-law is, and no, you can't have her.
The next day when we were able to sit down with Audra and Chris, I kept trying to find the right time to tell him that we were expecting again. Towards the end of the meal, I finally looked at Alex and just came out with it. Chris' first reaction was to look at Audra, which is completely understandable, and then told us congratulations. I know I told them both how sorry I was that their baby wasn't here yet, and I rubbed on Audra's arm as she started to tear up a little bit. After a second, she shook her head and said, "This is not about me! This is about y'all!"
I know after we left that both Audra and Chris probably sat and talked in the parking lot for a while. I know that they are extremely happy and joyful for us, but I also know that they are aching for their turn to have baby news.
But just as God has been faithful to us, I know that God will also be faithful to them.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Why I didn't write for a while
4.26.14
There was a period of a few months where I stopped writing. We knew we were pregnant, and I knew I wanted to write about it as it happened, but I also wasn't ready for the world to know.
Actually, I wasn't ready for Audra to know.
In February, we had gone and stayed the night with Chris and Audra at their house, and the boys had signed up to run a 10k in downtown Fort Worth. Chris and Audra live on the south side of downtown, so we didn't get there until about 8:00 Friday night.
We sat around and chatted for a bit about nothing, and finally decided to start winding down for the night. As we each got quiet, Chris started with a big sigh.
"Well, we... uh... We had some unexpected news yesterday."
And with that, I knew. I snapped my head around to where Audra was sitting next to me on the couch and probably deafened her as I asked, "ARE YOU PREGNANT?!"
She nodded hesitantly, and I pounced on her.
I wrapped my arms around her neck super tight and just cried happy tears as I kept saying, "I'm so happy for you! I'm so so happy for you!"
And I was.
Of all the people in this world that have a hard time getting pregnant, I will never understand why God chose Chris and Audra to carry that burden. Audra has loved each of her nieces and nephews as her own, and for as long as I have known her she has wanted to have kids of her own. I was genuinely thrilled for her and Chris, and so was Alex. We both wanted the best for them, and I had even thought when we had first lost Kaitlyn that maybe God would bless both of us and we would get to have a pregnancy together. We talked about how far along she was (she had just tested positive that week, but we figured she was around 7-8 weeks along), and talked about all the fears she had. It was the first time she had ever been pregnant, and I kept reassuring her that everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to be just fine.
It was the following Monday when she texted me. She had some spotting and wasn't sure what was going on, so had called the doctor's office.
Later that week, Audra miscarried.
Even now, I can't help but be devastated for her. Of course, she handled it with grace and hope, but I could imagine how disappointed she was. To have a glimpse of a positive only for it to be gone in a blink of an eye.
I know that in my early stages of grief, I said some things about miscarriages that I wish now that I could take back. Are stillbirths and miscarriages different? Absolutely. Is the grief of losing a child and all the hopes that you had for them universal? I think so. No matter the time frame, whether its a week or 8 months, the places we let our minds go as women, planning out the nursery, waiting to see what their personality will be like, thinking about the theme of the baby showers. We nurture our children no matter the number of weeks we are pregnant, and to lose that so quickly after gaining it.
I ache for her. I know that she and Chris are more than ready to be parents, and I know one day that they will be.
But for now, they are in the period of wait. I've been there, for a short period of time, and know a sliver of how difficult it can be to put every ounce of your being into trusting that God's timing is perfect. How hard it can be to see others get pregnant easily, and even harder to see those that didn't plan or want children be granted them so quickly.
I would never assume to know Audra's grief over their loss, just as she would never assume to know ours. But I know that she has her faith planted firmly in the word of God and that never returns void.
There was a period of a few months where I stopped writing. We knew we were pregnant, and I knew I wanted to write about it as it happened, but I also wasn't ready for the world to know.
Actually, I wasn't ready for Audra to know.
In February, we had gone and stayed the night with Chris and Audra at their house, and the boys had signed up to run a 10k in downtown Fort Worth. Chris and Audra live on the south side of downtown, so we didn't get there until about 8:00 Friday night.
We sat around and chatted for a bit about nothing, and finally decided to start winding down for the night. As we each got quiet, Chris started with a big sigh.
"Well, we... uh... We had some unexpected news yesterday."
And with that, I knew. I snapped my head around to where Audra was sitting next to me on the couch and probably deafened her as I asked, "ARE YOU PREGNANT?!"
She nodded hesitantly, and I pounced on her.
I wrapped my arms around her neck super tight and just cried happy tears as I kept saying, "I'm so happy for you! I'm so so happy for you!"
And I was.
Of all the people in this world that have a hard time getting pregnant, I will never understand why God chose Chris and Audra to carry that burden. Audra has loved each of her nieces and nephews as her own, and for as long as I have known her she has wanted to have kids of her own. I was genuinely thrilled for her and Chris, and so was Alex. We both wanted the best for them, and I had even thought when we had first lost Kaitlyn that maybe God would bless both of us and we would get to have a pregnancy together. We talked about how far along she was (she had just tested positive that week, but we figured she was around 7-8 weeks along), and talked about all the fears she had. It was the first time she had ever been pregnant, and I kept reassuring her that everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to be just fine.
It was the following Monday when she texted me. She had some spotting and wasn't sure what was going on, so had called the doctor's office.
Later that week, Audra miscarried.
Even now, I can't help but be devastated for her. Of course, she handled it with grace and hope, but I could imagine how disappointed she was. To have a glimpse of a positive only for it to be gone in a blink of an eye.
I know that in my early stages of grief, I said some things about miscarriages that I wish now that I could take back. Are stillbirths and miscarriages different? Absolutely. Is the grief of losing a child and all the hopes that you had for them universal? I think so. No matter the time frame, whether its a week or 8 months, the places we let our minds go as women, planning out the nursery, waiting to see what their personality will be like, thinking about the theme of the baby showers. We nurture our children no matter the number of weeks we are pregnant, and to lose that so quickly after gaining it.
I ache for her. I know that she and Chris are more than ready to be parents, and I know one day that they will be.
But for now, they are in the period of wait. I've been there, for a short period of time, and know a sliver of how difficult it can be to put every ounce of your being into trusting that God's timing is perfect. How hard it can be to see others get pregnant easily, and even harder to see those that didn't plan or want children be granted them so quickly.
I would never assume to know Audra's grief over their loss, just as she would never assume to know ours. But I know that she has her faith planted firmly in the word of God and that never returns void.
"Delight in the Lord, and He will give you
the desires of your heart."
Psalm 37:4
Easter
4.20.14
We decided to go to my parents' house outside of Austin for Easter, and they have a church there that they attend when they are there called Celebration Church. The church had three or four options for their Easter Sunday services, and we decided to get ourselves out of bed and go to the 7 AM sunrise service.
I didn't really know what to expect because I had never had the option to go to a sunrise service before, but I do know that 6 AM on Easter Sunday feels a lot earlier than 6 AM on a typical workday.
We all readied ourselves in the dark of the house, piled in the Tahoe and headed up to church. They had us park in the back of the church, which I thought was a little odd, but then we found out that the service was going to be outside. We walked over to where they had golf carts that would take you up this windy path to the top of a hill.
The music greeted us before we got there; the sounds of the band checking their microphones and tuning their guitars. Suddenly, we came to a stop and we all piled out.
There were maybe 100 chairs set up behind a stage that was made out of a white tent. All around us, there was fog. It was eerie and beautiful at the same time. Off to the right there was a cross where people would go and stand for a minute just to be reminded of Christ's sacrifice.
By far, it was the most peaceful and serene Easter service I'd ever been to. The weight of the fog surrounded us and isolated us from all the distractions of the nearby town, and the pastor even commented on us sitting "in the middle of God's favor", represented by the fog. I thought that was such an amazing visual of His love for us, and how we can't ever see the end of it, but we can see and feel it's presence.
We decided to go to my parents' house outside of Austin for Easter, and they have a church there that they attend when they are there called Celebration Church. The church had three or four options for their Easter Sunday services, and we decided to get ourselves out of bed and go to the 7 AM sunrise service.
I didn't really know what to expect because I had never had the option to go to a sunrise service before, but I do know that 6 AM on Easter Sunday feels a lot earlier than 6 AM on a typical workday.
We all readied ourselves in the dark of the house, piled in the Tahoe and headed up to church. They had us park in the back of the church, which I thought was a little odd, but then we found out that the service was going to be outside. We walked over to where they had golf carts that would take you up this windy path to the top of a hill.
The music greeted us before we got there; the sounds of the band checking their microphones and tuning their guitars. Suddenly, we came to a stop and we all piled out.
There were maybe 100 chairs set up behind a stage that was made out of a white tent. All around us, there was fog. It was eerie and beautiful at the same time. Off to the right there was a cross where people would go and stand for a minute just to be reminded of Christ's sacrifice.
By far, it was the most peaceful and serene Easter service I'd ever been to. The weight of the fog surrounded us and isolated us from all the distractions of the nearby town, and the pastor even commented on us sitting "in the middle of God's favor", represented by the fog. I thought that was such an amazing visual of His love for us, and how we can't ever see the end of it, but we can see and feel it's presence.
"The whole creation waits breathless with anticipation
for the revelation of God's sons and daughters."
Romans 8:19
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