We will #NeverForget

As we enter my favorite time of year--Fall/Winter, my heart is torn, as it always is. I love this time of year. I love the colors of fall and then all the colors of Christmas and winter. It's so beautiful. God truly knows how to paint a canvas and this is the time of year that I, personally, believe that He shows off best. It's difficult for me to drive because I'm admiring His canvas so much! Pictures don't do justice to what He creates, but I sure do try to capture it when I can!

But fall is difficult for me because all my struggles, all my sorrows have happened in the fall of the year. In November, actually. Well, not ALL, but a large number of them, enough to make this time of year super difficult: 

• I learned that I had a cyst growing on my left ovary and ultimately had to have surgery during my 20th week of pregnancy with J. Isaac (who was born still just 18 weeks later) to remove my left ovary and fallopian tube just before Christmas
• I miscarried Panya Ruth on November 10, 1999
• I miscarried Anna Rose on November 22, 2005
• I had my diverticulitis surgery in late November of 2009--where I had to have an ostomy [bag]
• I had my uterine ablation in November of 2010
• I threatened my husband in October 2012

And a few other things I won't mention here. 

One thing that helps people like me get through times like this is the fact that October is Pregnancy

Loss and Infancy Loss Awareness Month. It is difficult for me to talk about my losses for a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest is because talking about losing a child makes people uncomfortable. They simply don't know what to say to someone who has lost a child. And quite often if they do say something, they say something hurtful. And friendships are broken. So people end up just not talking about child loss at all. And the grieving mother--or father--suffers alone. In silence. For years. 

It is this silence that tends to drive some women (and men) to action. Some do something about their losses by creating organizations to help others who have lost babies. When we first lost our James Isaac and then Panya Ruth back in 1999, we didn't have the internet like we do now. It was just coming into being and getting on the internet was slow and laborious. And staying on the internet was next to impossible. Plus, there just weren't many organizations for people who had lost a baby. So we definitely suffered in silence. There was no Facebook group to join to discuss our hurts and we couldn't find a local support group. And back then, I had never heard of October being Pregnancy Infant Loss Awareness Month.

It has been exciting to see the organizations available now. There's one that will show up to take pictures for you. I had a friend come to the hospital specifically to take pictures for me when we lost our sweet James Isaac, but she didn't know if that was ok, so she never asked. It's a regret for each of us. There is an organization that sends a sweet care package to the hospital for moms who have lost a baby. There are online chat groups and support groups. There are groups who walk to raise awareness. There are groups who hold candlelight vigils. I've found places that sell t-shirts now and other wonderful remembrance paraphernalia. Someone has even started making dolls that are the same weight as your baby if that's something you'd be interested in. And the list goes on.

There are even more books now about child loss than ever before--good ones. When we first lost James Isaac, the pickings for good child loss books were really slim. There are a few good Bible studies, even. More and more women are sharing their stories. And even a few men, which is needed just as much. I'm working on telling my story, too. In doing so, I can tell you that it is not easy to share, but it does help in the healing process, in the healing journey.

We all grieve differently. We all travel the grief journey differently and take as long as we each need. October is a time set aside specifically to slow down or stop if we wish and Remember. Many of us have had some people act as if our babies weren't real or alive just because they didn't live outside our bodies, but we know the truth: they Lived. They deserve to be honored, to be remembered in whatever special way you desire, whether it be every single day of the month or just one day out of the month. October 15 is set aside as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day if you prefer just one day. It's your choice. No judgment. 

• Tell your story if you want. You're welcome to share it here. I'd love to hear it. If not to me, share it with someone you trust. Write it down for yourself if not for anyone else. 
• Look at your Memory Box that you got from the hospital. 
• This is Shoebox season for Samaritan's Purse; donate a box in memory of your baby. 
• Join a GriefShare group if you need to. 
• Find a group online and just "listen" to their conversations to see if they have similar stories. 
• Find a pen pal (I have 2). 
• Start your own organization. 
• Plant a tree in memory.
• Make a scrapbook--if you don't have pictures, use poems, images and/or quotes that are meaningful to you. 
• Write a letter to your Precious.
• Get a tattoo. If that's not your style, you could always get a temporary one. :)
• Make a list of all the hurtful things people have said to you. Journal why their words hurt so much. Get your hurt off your heart and out of your system, on paper--or on the computer.
• Write a letter/note of forgiveness to someone who said or did something to hurt you, whether you mean it or not. You don't have to send it right now if you'd rather not. Just write it. Or go ahead and send it. You never know....
• If you know or hear of someone who suffers the loss of a child, do something for that couple that you wish had been done for you.
• Cry. Allow yourself a good cry. It really and truly is ok to FEEL whatever you feel.
• Have a celebration in honor of your Precious. Whatever that celebration looks like for you is what you should have.
• Create a Playlist.
• Get alone and spend some special time just Remembering. 
• Laugh. Sometimes a good laugh is just the right thing. 

Remember.

#NeverForget

Desperate for Encouragement

I am going to use this post to be vulnerable and share with you that I am desperate for encouragement. 

My anxiety is through the roof. 

Since God sealed my cave almost 2 years ago (see previous entries), I have found a whole new cave that I have RUN into. The darkness has surrounded me again and I am not so sure that I want to come out ever again. I know my Jesus is at the entrance to my cave calling my name in love as He watches over and protects me. I just cannot bring myself to listen and respond. 

At this moment in time, with my anxiety level so high, it FEELS that there is more comfort to be found in the darkness than in my Savior's Light.

It's just TOO hard to go on CHOOSING JOY every day, every hour of every day, every second of every day. 

I am reading scripture; I am in the Word. I am speaking the Word. I am listening to and singing worship songs. I am reading and doing Bible Studies. But I am struggling.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month and I am 1 in 4.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month--October 2015

As we come to the end of National Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month, I wanted to share a few thoughts.

First of all, I would like to put it out there that one month of attempting to make more people aware of pregnancy and infant loss is simply not enough. People need to be aware of this important subject year round--as we do for so many other vitally important diseases and causes. I am glad that there is at least a time of attempting to make more people aware of something so important. I am thankful that there are those who are willing to do what it takes to stop the silence.

When I lost James Isaac 16 years ago, I only spoken to or known of one person in my life who had ever suffered child loss. The woman I knew had had a stillbirth more than 15 years prior to my stillbirth. She had pictures of her baby throughout her home. She was not afraid or ashamed to share her story. I remember (prior to my stillbirth) being very uncomfortable, yet feeling very sad, around this amazing woman. But she was the only woman who had ever shared with me that she had lost a child.

Once we had our stillbirth, women seemed to crawl out of the woodwork sharing with me about their losses--mostly miscarriages. Because of the fact that many of these women shared their stories with me while I was still in the midst of the shock stage of my grief, I honestly don't remember exactly which women shared their stories with me or even what their stories were. I do know that there were quite a few of them.

My point is that we shouldn't wait until a friend or loved one loses a baby before we share our stories.

We should share our stories with love, pride, and yes, even joy. I loved--love--all three of the babies I lost. I am not a mommy of JUST my living, breathing son, Samuel; I am mommy to James Isaac (born & died March 17, 1999), Panya Ruth (miscarried November 10, 1999), Samuel Josiah (b. May 1, 2001), and Anna Rose (miscarried November 22, 2005).

So secondly, it is important for those of us who are part of this Family to be able to feel free to say that we are Mommy to more than just one child without feeling as if we've brought the roof down or without making everyone around us uncomfortable.

Who do we "fix" or change that? The only way to change the awkwardness around us whenever someone brings up "lost" babies is to be loving and simply let the Mommy (or Daddy) talk. In spite of our desire to say something to "help," saying nothing is typically the best option--except to ask a question or to gently and lovingly let the Mommy know that she is in a "safe" place with a "safe" person. Hugs go a LONG way. As do simple touches. 

Over the past 16 years, I quit sharing with so many people about my losses. The uneasiness that comes into a room says more than any words could possibly say. I don't like or want to make people uncomfortable. But I do want to share about my babies.

I loved--love--them. They were real for me. They ARE real for me. Yes, it is painful for me to talk about my babies, but even more than that, it especially painful to act as if they never were--never to speak their names or to share with others how very much I love each of them.

In truth, writing this blog (and my Memoir) is not easy for me. I am scared to death of how you will receive my story. Not to mention the simple fact that sharing my story is still painful--even though the first loss happened more than 16 years ago. With each post I write, I feel as if I am wearing my heart outside my body, but I've heard that every mother feels that way about her child--whether here on this earth or in heaven.

We're taught about being sensitive, loving, and understanding with those who have physical challenges and disabilities, mental challenges and disabilities, widows/widowers, children who have lost their parents or grandparents or other loved one, and especially with those of a different race. But we aren't taught about being sensitive, loving, and understanding with those who suffer the loss of a baby. We have NO idea what to do with those who have lost a baby.

I'm here to tell you that we need to be sensitive, loving, and understanding with Mommies whose arms are empty. We deserve that, too.

Works Cited

Shen, Jean. "Series 1: Healing of Wounds of the Bride and Growing Intimacy with the Lord." Invitation to His Garden. Prophetic Art. Web. 6 Sept. 2014. <http://www.jbrushwork.com/html/paintings.html>.