It's difficult to determine what will break me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAEq7_NTltk

Last night, I was minding my own business, doing some work on my computer with the tv on a random channel. I was probably watching an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. or something on the ID channel. Typically I keep the tv on for the background noise. While I don't pay careful attention to what's going on, I am vaguely aware of the noise in the background. Every so often, something happens or is said on screen that captures my attention and I look up from what I'm doing.

A commercial was playing for the "morning after" pill (see the link at the top). They didn't call it that in the commercial; they call it "Plan B," just in case.

Folks, for those of us who have suffered child loss and/or are dealing with infertility, this commercial just tears open an already unhealed and bleeding wound. I'm not talking about right or wrong, morality or immorality as I share my heart tonight. I'm talking about the desperation we feel in our inability to have the baby (babies) we so desperately want while there are women in the world who are doing everything in their power to keep from having one.

I am not trying to judge. It is difficult with such a sensitive subject not to come across as judging, but please, hear my heart.

I get that some women do not have a desire to have children. I don't think women should be having babies just because it's expected of them. I know a number of women (couples) who have made a very conscious decision NOT to have any children and they are doing everything possible to prevent that from happening. That is a choice that they have every right to make.

It is just as frustrating watching some women have one baby after another while saying how much she hates kids--other kids, but not her own.

Every time I see a woman who is pregnant or read a pregnancy announcement online, my heart falls down into my toes and I feel the depression descend as a comfortable, yet unwanted, blanket. I rejoice in the joy of others--of course I do, but the fact, the simple truth is that I want one, too. Yes, I have my son. He is truly the sunshine of my life.

But I want his 3 siblings, too.

We make a big deal out of women who don't want kids.

We make a big deal when a woman doesn't have any kids.

Almost as soon as a couple gets together, they hear, "So when are you two going to have a baby?"

Women who struggle with infertility have to hear this question--and it breaks their hearts, each and every time.

Women who have made a conscious choice not to have any children have to hear this question--and it breaks their hearts, each and every time.

Why is whether or not a woman has a baby anyone's business but that of the couple deciding to have a baby, or not?

Why is the general public so incredibly insensitive regarding the feelings of women?

I have been pregnant a total of 4 times but have only one living child. My body still has times when it reacts as if a pregnancy is imminent, in spite of the fact that pregnancy is an impossibility for me now. Like a phantom limb, sometimes I feel movement in my belly--as if a baby is growing there.

Many of us who have dealt with (are dealing with) child loss or infertility also struggle with depression, anxiety, and/or other emotional, physical, mental, and even spiritual issues. What seems insignificant to others or no big deal has HUGE significance for us and is a VERY big deal.

What you feel is harmless teasing actually sends many of us to our beds, curled up in our blankets, hiding from the world, unable to eat, bathe, or function in normal society. Your words or such commercials, I am sure, are NOT intended to hurt, but the honest-to-goodness truth is that WORDS (and such commercials) HURT--a lot--deep into our very souls.

We know, with our heads, that such words are not meant to hurt, but, like M'Lynn in Steel Magnolias, we wish someone would explain it to our hearts. We desperately attempt to cling to sanity, but we honestly never know what is going to rip open our wound or what is going to just give it a little tug. If we could control that, we

so would.

I say all this simply to say this: we never know what someone is going through, so be nice to each other. This isn't just a saying or a cliche; it's truth. 

What is it that kills your soul....?

Both Joy-Full and Sad

“So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.”   ― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Those who know me at all, know that one my recent favorite books is The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. I fell in love with this book while on a school trip a few years ago as my students had the movie version playing on the bus. I tried to avoid watching it since I hadn't read the book yet, but that proved impossible. The story sucked me in and I was reading the book on my Nook by the time the movie ended and I finished reading the book in about two days.

The above quote comes very early in the book and it is one of the themes of the book that stands out the most to me because I feel exactly that way. In recent years, I have been both Joy-full and sad. Yes, at the same time. I find myself laughing from deep within my soul while sobbing my heart out. Or vice versa. 

It has been a very confusing and difficult time.

No matter how hard I try, no matter how many passages I read in the Bible (including the Psalms), no matter how much I worship, no matter how soul-deep my laughter, no matter how big my smile, I am still sad. Sadness has become an ever-present companion. 

But even in my sadness, I find myself enjoying reading my Bible, I love worshipping my Lord and Savior, I laugh from the very depths of my being, and I smile with every part of my being. Being Joy-full has become second nature for me. I believe that God has anointed me with His oil of Joy more than He has anyone else (Psalm 45:7 & Hebrews 1:9, NLT).

When I first saw the movie Inside Out, I wept with Joy because it seems to reveal that what I feel is completely normal. In order to know True Joy, we must also know True Sadness. One cannot BE without the other. It is in our deepest sadness that we are able to experience true, uninhibited Joy. Those who have experienced the deepest of sorrows KNOW what True Sadness is, so when we are able to find and experience True Joy in life, we KNOW what that means.

I am not doing a very good job of explaining what I am trying to say, I know. Let me try saying this another way.

The past few weeks have been filled with an incredible amount of Great Joy. I had a positive employee evaluation. Seven beloved ladies and I went to the Women of Joy Conference in Pigeon Forge, TN. Not only did the eight of us have a wonderful time together, but we had a wonderful time at each of the sessions. And best of all, I got to meet Chonda Pierce AND Margaret Feinberg!!! And have my picture taken with BOTH!!! And each autographed her book for me!!!! Talk about the HEIGHT OF JOY!!!!!

Then the weekend after that, my uncle got married, we had a family reunion (maternal), and my son turned 15! We have a WONDERFUL time. We laughed! We talked, shouted, really. (We're a loud group, it's true.) We sang. We ate. And we laughed a whole lot more. My husband and son even seemed to enjoy themselves--as much as is possible with a whole bunch of people they'd never even met, that is! It was truly a weekend full of Joy-full family time.

Then it was the end of the semester and graduation, which was a lot of fun--even though I wasn't allowed to woo-hoo. I did hug as many students as I was able as they finished getting their pictures taken! And I finished my grades and other paperwork on time!!

And Mother's Day was so sweet. My boys bought me a wonderful gift--exactly what I wanted, needed, and asked for.

But then, the other day, as I was sitting at my desk working on nothing in particular, but yet something important, I felt this wave of sadness descend on me. Imagine an ocean descending from above, slowly, and engulfing you completely. You can breathe, but at the same time, you're struggling for air. There is no up. There is no down. There is only the sadness completely surrounding you, washing over you and keeping you under water.

And no matter how much you laugh, no matter how much you smile, no matter how much you read your Bible or worship, you remain in the depths of this ocean of sadness, unable to find, let alone break, the surface.

But my God is a big God. He is bigger than this sadness that has engulfed me. I will NOT let it keep me down. I will continue to read my Bible. I will continue to worship and praise my Lord. I will keep laughing. I will keep smiling. I will keep loving.

I will allow the Lord to anoint me with His oil of Joy.....I will NOT be defeated by the Sadness.

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>.

Affirmations of Joy

In my study on JOY over the past several years, I keep reading that having JOY is a conscious choice we must make. Yes, God gives us JOY in Him, but when we battle depression or when we are simply battling, experiencing His joy is next to impossible. We find ourselves nesting in our sadness, unable to go beyond the hurt: Job 6:10-11 (NLT), "At least I can take comfort in this: Despite the pain, I have not denied the words of the Holy One.
11 But I don’t have the strength to endure.
    I have nothing to live for."

We still love our Lord and Savior, but we simply "don't have the strength" to go on. Like Job, we feel that we "have nothing [left] to live for."

It is in these moments when JOY is as hidden as the end of a rainbow. We long for JOY--to be released from our deep sadness, but it wraps tight around us with the strength of gravity. We are powerless against it.

I have been in such a state for longer than I care to admit. Suffice it to say that 10 years is a low estimate.

As God has been healing me over the past year or so, though, I have felt the power of the sadness lessen more and more. I purposefully began to CHOOSE happiness--JOY. I began by keeping a Gratitude list in a little red moleskin journal that I carry in my purse with me. Anytime I thought of something I was grateful for, I wrote it down in my little red book. It was not easy as I often even forgot that I had that little red book. After a while, though, I found myself writing in it more and more. I was finding it easier and easier to write down things I was grateful for.

I found an online group called "The 30-Day Pollyanna Plan." The woman who operated that Facebook group challenged the participants to post something she (or he) was GLAD about each day for 30 days (or longer). I did that consistently for 30 days. While I no longer post specifically to her group, I continue to keep up with the posts of the group.

I continued to post, on my own, things I was GLAD about for the next year or so. Something whenever I thought of it. Sometimes it was one thing. Other times it was several things.

From there, I moved to writing 5 things positive about my day--every day. I posted most of those on Facebook for several months. I had made a very conscious decision to be more positive at work. I was finding that I was doing an awful lot of complaining, but not much was changing. I made a CHOICE to accept what was and to begin being positive whether I liked what was--or not. I called it #ThePollyAnnaPlan.

As 2015 came to a close, I wanted to change things up a little bit, so I went back to writing one positive every day. I decided to ask the question, "What brings me JOY?" And to answer that every day--on Facebook. I call this one #ThePollyAnnaJOYPlan. 

Being positive or finding something to be Joy-full about every single day is NOT easy. Even after doing such things for a full year and then some, I still have days when I just do not FEEL Joy-full, no matter what I do or say. But I have made a CHOICE to be positive and to be JOY-full--regardless. As the days pass, I am feeling the difference--in myself, in my interactions with others around me, with my responses to difficult situations, buy even more wonderful are the differences I'm seeing in those I interact with daily. 

God is using my CHOICE to make the difference. I pray that I continue to be a light for Him, showering those around me the JOY only He can give.

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>.

Do I Need You More?

Some time ago, we were singing "I Need You More" (see below for the words and a link to a video) and another song that is similar, "You're All I Need" (this may be a song we sing that is personal for our church because I cannot find the lyrics or a video for it) during our amazing worship service at church. As we were worshiping, I focused carefully on the words I was singing: "I need You more....more than anything...." and I began to weep as I realized that I was lying as I sang those words.

I was singing these words to my Lord and Savior, but I did not mean them. 

All I could think was that I did not need Him more than anything...what I NEEDED more than

anything were my babies, here, with me, alive, in my arms, running around the church, praising the Lord with me, warm bodies pressed against my leg or my heart as I held them close. I needed to be able to call them down when they got too loud during preaching. I needed to give them paper to draw on as they colored. I needed a little body sitting on my lap, snuggling close as we listened to Daddy preach the Word of the Lord.

I NEEDED my babies, not Jesus.

The guilt overwhelmed me as I had to quit singing because I could not sing words that were a lie. It was in that moment that I realized that I needed serious help. I realized that because of my desperate need to have my babies with me--alive, whole, and healthy--I was desperately angry at God because they weren't. I didn't want--or need--God; I wanted, NEEDED, my babies.

I do not believe that there is anything inherently wrong in my need for my babies I have lost. The problem was that I was playing the Victim Card. The problem was that I was looking at and Seeing what I had lost--what I didn't have--rather than what I had/have. The problem was that I had lost my JOY [in living]. The problem was that I was Angry at God because I had served Him my whole life and I didn't understand Why. 

The problem was that I had turned my back on the very One who desperately wanted to Love me...to Comfort me....to show me that He was holding my babies in His loving arms and that they are all waiting for me to join them [one day].

I wish I could tell you that my broken, angry heart was healed that very day as I realized how far I'd turned my back on God, but the simple truth is that the pain went deep into my very soul and I had to deal with my anger at God before healing and restoration could take place. 

I think that as Christians we can get very frustrated--angry--hurt--feeling left out when we see others restored instantaneously through the power of the Holy Ghost but yet we have to travel a long journey to get to complete healing and restoration. What do those others have that I don't have? Why does God "favor" them by restoring them immediately? Why do I have to pay for months, years, of counseling? 

Why?!

I have come to realize that there isn't an answer to my questions. Things simply ARE the way they are. God sees, He KNOWS, the bigger picture. He knows when we need instant healing and when we need to travel a journey. 

I didn't want Christ. I didn't NEED Him. I wanted--NEEDED--my babies. And as we sang a song about needing my Lord more than I needed anything else, I found that I didn't need Him more than the air I was breathing or my next heartbeat. I NEEDED my babies. 

But that thinking, that NEED, was stealing my Joy. It was keeping me in a place of extreme Rage--at God, my husband, my family, at Life. My very soul was in darkness.

It is as I have come to truly realize my desperate NEED for my Lord and Savior that I am finding JOY again. It is in finding my NEED for Him that my Rage abated. As I allowed myself to NEED Him more than anything, I found my soul living in the Light.

Do I still want my babies here with me rather than in Heaven with Christ? You bet your bippy, I do. I absolutely wish things had been different. I would much rather have James Isaac here, driving us around and helping us teach his younger brother and sisters everything he has learned. I would much rather have three kids in high school and one in middle school. It would not bother me in the slightest to buy Christmas presents for 4 children instead of just one. I would love to be able to have all 4 children wear matching t-shirts with my husband and I. I would love to be able to do the "girly" things (whatever they would want that to be) with my girls. It would be really awesome if James Isaac, Panya Ruth, and Anna Rose were all here with their brother, Samuel.

But living without Christ being ALL I NEED is not a good place to be. Living with Christ as ALL I NEED has been everything I need. And that is enough.....

"I Need You More" as sung by Kim Walker-Smith, Jesus Culture

I need You more
More than yesterday
I need You Lord
More than words can say I need You more
Than ever before
I need You Lord
I need You Lord

More than the air I breathe
More than the song I sing
More than the next heartbeat
More than anything
And Lord as time goes by
I'll be by Your side
Cause I never want to go back to my old life

I need You more...

We give you the Highest Praise!
We give you the Highest Praise!

A We give you the Highest Praise!

More than the air I breathe
More than the songs I sing
More than anything, I need you more..

• Category

  • Music

• License

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>.

Walker-Smith, Kim. I Need You More. Jesus Culture. 2011. Youtube. Web. 16 May 2016. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6rS_V0TTeY>.

Evidence of the Reality of God

*Warning: this is going to be VERY personal. Please read with love and understanding.*

Three short years ago, I thought my little family was finished. I honestly believed that a few short months after Christmas would see an end to my marriage. James and I had come to a place of being roommates rather than husband and wife. We had separated for a few weeks and I was DONE. I had decided I did not want to deal with our problems any more. I had come to a place where my anger towards my husband was so severe, NOTHING he did was right or good enough. EVERYTHING he did ticked me off and made me want to punch him in the throat. I was ready to walk away from my marriage and never look back--without any regrets.

I did not buy James a single present for Christmas. Samuel did, but I didn't. James got me something that he wanted and that only made me angry because it was what he wanted rather than something I wanted. I didn't even want James in the house let alone have him present while Samuel opened his Christmas presents that I had gotten for him.

Even my family back east did not want him anywhere near them. He was told that he was unwelcome at my parents' family gathering for Christmas. 

I will not apologize for my honesty. Every word in the truth and then some. It really was even worse than I am describing.

But God had other plans. I want you to know that it is ONLY by His grace and mercy that my family is not only together this Christmas, but that we are enjoying being together. As I watched my husband and son opening their presents earlier this evening, I was filled with overwhelming love for them both and great JOY at the fact that we are spending this special time TOGETHER.

I have not missed the Christmas miracle of these moments this year. God has restored my marriage--my family. No, things are not perfect between James and me, but I no longer hate him; I no longer want to punch him the throat just because he walks by; I no longer think that every single thing he does is wrong. I like being around him. He actually makes me laugh again. 

If you need any evidence of the reality of God, who He is, and of what He has done for us, look no further than at His Restoration of my little family. I am in awe as I sit here looking at the pictures we took tonight and how wonderful our time together has been this Christmas compared to just a short time ago. 

My prayer this Christmas is that you will all see--find--the true JOY of Jesus Christ and KNOW that He is REAL and He continues to work miracles in our lives--not just "Christmas" miracles--but miracles.

Thank you, Jesus!

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>.

Life and Death Tug-of-War.*Updated*

In November 2009, ten years ago this month, Life and Death played a tug-of-war with me. I stood half in the veil, half out. 

I had been sick for quite a while, but rather than go to the doctor, I took whatever pain medication I could get my hands on. I was taking a cocktail of ibuprofen, Aleve, Tylenol, Alka-Seltzer, Excedrine, Bayer, and any and everything else I could get my hands on to help deal with the pain. Even worse, I was taking no fewer than six pills at a time or I would take a dose of Alka-Seltzer and then turn around less than an hour later and take six Tylenol. 

I hurt on the lower right side of my belly, and I was throwing up every day, sometimes several times a day. I was in a lot of pain, but I refused to heed the warning signals.

The Sunday prior to my visit to the emergency room, I woke up in the morning, unable to breathe or move. I took some pain medication, as per usual, and forced myself to go to church. I continued to self-medicate over the course of that next week. Somehow I survived the week in spite of being in extreme, severe pain. 

Then, Sunday morning, November 22, 2009, the pain again woke me up. I took something like six or eight Ibuprofen (I have no idea exactly how many--I was half asleep as well as in a LOT of pain) and tried to go back to sleep for a little while. In only a few short minutes, the pain was still so bad, I threw myself off the couch (the pain had been so severe that I had been sleeping on the couch for quite a while) and curled into a ball on the floor. I immediately knew I was in trouble, but I was unable to catch my breath enough to call out to my husband. All I could do was pound on the floor until he finally came in to see what in the world was going on.

I was able to breathe out that we had to go to the emergency room. Because of the late hour, or early rather--it was about 4:00 am--and the fact that I was in as much pain as I was, we had to leave immediately which meant that my son, who was 9 at the time, had to go to the hospital with us. Every turn of the car around the curves along the road was pure agony. My husband tried to drive slow so it wasn't so bad on me, but I indicated that he needed to drive faster rather than slower.

Thankfully, there wasn't anyone at the emergency room ahead of us. I was taken through triage and put in a room almost immediately. 

I tried to smile and make light of the situation because I did not want to panic my son. To this day, I have never asked him what was going on with him during that horrible time. I'm honestly afraid to ask.

A male nurse (I love male nurses, btw) came in with two bottles of banana-flavored barium and told me that once I drank both bottles, I would be taken for a CT scan. 

(I still can't eat or smell a banana without gagging.)

The CT scan showed that I had an abscess in my colon. I was admitted to the hospital. Almost as soon as we got to my room, I told my nurse that I had to go to the bathroom. I did not make it. (To all the CNAs out there: I'm sooooo very sorry. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you! I love you!!!) The barium came out of every orifice it could come out of. I was put on heavy drugs in an attempt to lessen the infection. From Sunday, November 22 to Saturday morning the 28, I spent the vast majority of my time passed out. 

I remember my dad coming to visit and telling me that he was going to take Samuel back east with him for Thanksgiving. Samuel missed a few days of school, I think.

I remember some friends of mine coming in to visit. I know I talked to them and we laughed and that they combed my hair for me, but the only other thing I remember are my hallucinations. I was in a beautiful meadow with butterflies, rainbows, clouds, and Gerard Butler. 

My boss came in with his wife, but all I was able to do was wave at them before I passed out--again.

I remember that my nurse asked if I would agree to move to a different room, one that put me across the hall from the nurse's station. 

My sister arrived at some point. As did my mom. And other family members. I remember my sister-in-law sitting with me, but since I was so in and out of it, all she really did was read. I think she read a whole book.

On Saturday morning, November 28, one week after I'd first gone to the hospital, I had to drink two more bottles of banana-flavored barium so my doctor could attempt to drain the infection while I

was in the CT scanner. He was unable to perform the procedure, so I was immediately taken to the OR for emergency surgery where my colon was rerouted so I had to wear an ostomy bag for the next several months. Several drains for infection were put in as well. I had two separate incisions--one that ran up and down from my belly button to my lower hairline and the other on my left side which is where the hole was that I used for the next several months when "using" the bathroom.

I was, of course, put on even more extreme pain medication after my surgery, Dilaudid. My hallucinations as a result of such a strong medication scared me like nothing else during that scary time had. I saw demons flying around my hospital room, attempting to attack me. I know they were demons of death come for me. Thankfully, there were also warrior angels surrounding my bed, fighting to save my life. 

Guess which won?! 🧡

I stayed in the hospital for another week before I was allowed to go home. A CNA changed my bag for me throughout my stay in the hospital. I didn't do much with it at all. I walked the hospital halls as much as I was able, which wasn't much because I was simply in a lot of pain from my incisions. 

I had to take my IV stand with me on my walks at first. And my pee bag. So picture it: there I was, walking down the hall in my hospital gown, slowly, with an IV stand and my pee bag in one hand, my other hand clinging to the wall, all the while attempting to hide the fact that I was pooping in a bag on my left side. Mom often walked with me. I loved talking with her, at least.

Mom and Dad stayed with me for the first several days once I was home to help me. I was still on some pretty potent pain meds and unsteady on my feet as well as unable to take care of my bag by myself. I was unable to do many normal, every-day activities like bathing by myself, cooking, and even eating was a struggle because we had to be sure I could actually handle it.

Good times. Yeah. Good times.

Not.

The first time I had to change my bag at home by myself, I almost passed out. If an at-home nurse hadn't been with me, I would have hit the floor. Thankfully, one was here and she saw me go white and helped me get to the bed. 

After a while, working with the bag became "normal"--whatever that meant. As we very often hear when we go through trials/tribulations/suffering of any kind, my "new normal." 

I still hated it.

Three months later, my doctor reversed the surgery and removed all need for the ostomy bag, Praise the Lord. Even now, though, touching my belly hurts something awful. I cannot lie on my belly for longer than a few minutes and even at that, when I do roll over, my belly--the incisions--burn with pain. It typically takes a few minutes of breathlessness before I am able to move again. Needless to say, I avoid lying on my stomach as much as possible. I have also recently learned that I have two hernias near my incision sights. (That makes a total of 4 hernias in my belly area. *sigh*) I also had my gall bladder removed a few years; the same doctor who did my previous surgeries performed this one too. I joked with him that I was just going to get his name tattooed on my belly area, "Created by Montgomery Cox."

The beauty of this story, if you choose to see it that way with me, is that LIFE won the tug-of-war over DEATH for Polly Anna!  

I am Alive! I am here today, alive and full of the Joy of the Lord! Hallelujah! My God is a GOOD God and He loves me. He sings over me with JOY. He has a plan for me. I'm alive because He has something He wants me to do that I haven't done yet. I don't know exactly what it is, yet, but I'm working on figuring it out. I believe it has something to do with writing and/or teaching.

What do you think? 

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>.

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>.