Someone Is Missing.

Fear.
Hope.
Sadness.
Joy.
Loss.
Life.
I feel like I don't have a right to feel the way I do.

We lost our baby last July.
No one knows what to say to that. 
I know I didn't. 
Heck, I still don't.
Some people tried to be sensitive, but usually ended up prying too much and bringing it up when I didn't want them to.
Most people mumbled an "I'm sorry," and continued as if nothing had happened. 
In a culture where abortion is normalized, it sometimes feels like first term miscarriages aren't considered a real tragedy. 
But they are.
Our baby died.


After a lot of crying, I started pretending like it didn't happen.
I was really good at that.
Too good.


6 months later, I was sound asleep and I heard a baby cry so clearly that my eyes popped open!
I took a pregnancy test first thing in the morning and it was positive!

Then came the fear. 

I was afraid to be intimate with my husband.
I held my breath every time I had to use the bathroom, afraid to find spotting.
I sincerely thanked God every time there was nothing to see.
Once I was clear of the first trimester, when miscarriage is most common, I stopped looking at the t.p. in dread.
However, I still didn't call for a doctor appointment, afraid that they would look for a heartbeat and not find one.
I would rather cling to "ignorance is bliss" than not hear the hummingbird heartbeat on the doppler.

Finally, we got health coverage and I ran out of excuses to not see the doctor.
My very first appointment was for the sonogram. 
I hadn't decidedly felt the baby move yet, even though I was 18 weeks along, so I didn't know what they would find.

I silently waited in solemn anticipation as fuzzy versions of tiny arms and legs and spine and head showed up on the screen.
Were the images moving? 
Or was it just the the tech moving the wand around?
Then I saw the heartbeat on the monitor.
Until that moment, I hadn't let myself dare hope that there was a healthy baby growing inside my belly.
I didn't stop crying for the rest of the appointment, I was so relieved and happy!


...But I'm not sure if I've let hope in even now.
I'm reassured every time I feel her bumping around in there, but I still don't feel like she's a sure thing yet.
I'm having trouble getting myself excited for her arrival in just a few months.
I think I'm afraid that I'll fall in love with her, allow myself to hope... 

...and then we'll lose her, too.

I dread trying to talk to someone and getting a bunch of feel-good platitudes, or even scripture, or being "one-upped" by people who think they're helping by showing me how they can relate.

I thought talking about it with someone who understands might be good.

But who?

I don't want to drudge up past grief for someone who I know who has gone through this.

I can't talk with women who have just lost a baby - If I were them, I'd hate me just for being pregnant, let alone pregnant and sad.

Baby Blues and PPD moms aren't quite right for me either, though they'd understand the "I'm supposed to be filled with joy, and instead I'm filled with this crappy feeling" feeling.

I should be holding another someone in my arms by now, and instead I'm carrying a different little one in my belly.
Will I always feel like someone is missing?

As much as I'm looking forward to meeting Baby Ellie in October, I am still so bitterly sad that I don't get to meet the little one we lost. 

And I can't help but fear that I won't get the chance to meet Ellie either.

I don't know how to prepare for a baby that I have so much fear and sadness around.

Yet I feel like I don't have the right to feel this way.

God chose to take our baby and I trust Him.

I feel that hearing that baby cry in the middle of the night was a promise that I'll get to meet this one. 

I just wish that I could feel the way I think a pregnant mom is supposed to feel.

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised." Job 1:21

UPDATE: Naming Hadassah
UPDATE2: I Got To Hear Her Cry

 

Links:

Pregnancy Resource Center

What To Say When A Friend Or Relative Has Had A Pregnancy Loss

Baby Blues Connection 

HEART - for abortion-related trauma 

Heartbroken

Sometimes life throws something so big at you that time stands still for months.

When you finally remember to look up, you sincerely wonder how the rest of the world has just keep going, as if this life-altering event never occurred. 

Something so traumatic that it changes how you keep time.

All other events are now remembered as "before" or "after" it happened.

You can tell by your Facebook page that it's changed you forever - that part of you died with them.

Your own status updates from the days before are too happy, or complaining about something so trivial that you're embarrassed and contemplate deleting them.


After it happened, I couldn't stand the color red because it reminded me of blood.

I hated the dark and the night. I only slept during the day.

I wouldn't leave the house at all, unless it was to go to court or the police station.

Once I was able to leave the house, I would drive miles out of my way to avoid having to drive by the place it happened.


"Time heals all things" feels like a lie.
You're faced with a never-ending stream of flowers, cards, phone calls, doorbells, and casseroles in dishes you'll have to return.
Well-meaning people tell you they "understand", as if they ever could.
And then as if to prove it, they tell you their own terrible story.
Or worse, they offer you the advice of "moving on" or "getting past this".


But then there's a few people who you realize actually do understand like no one else can.
They've stood in the exact spot you're in now and they somehow came out the other side.
Forever altered, but alive, offering hope that you will survive this, too.

I was once asked if time really does heal all things.
I didn't know how to answer - how to offer hope and honesty in the same sentence.
I finally answered, "Time changes things."
You may never feel fully healed, but you won't always feel so raw.
You never get over it.
And every loss after that seems to compound on top of that one big one.
You feel like you'll never be okay again.
The "okay" you're expecting belongs to the person you were before it happened.
But there is a new normal, a new "okay" ahead for the person you are now.
And you will find it.

One day you'll find that you've learned to breathe again.

I remember one day realizing that I hadn't thought about it at all for an entire day.
I felt confused and guilty, like I had inadvertently betrayed someone I love.

It's been 9 years now.

It's okay that I don't think about it for days.

It's also okay that I remember.

It's okay that I talk about it.

And it's okay that I'm still heartbroken.


But it's okay that I'm happy.

It's okay that I live.


I don't pretend to know why God allows terrible things to happen.
All I know is that He is a loving Father who loved you so much that He didn't even spare His only Son's life in order to be with you again. He is a God who knows your agony first hand and He wants desperately to comfort you in your grief. 


Click here for an article on Dealing With Greif: Five Things NOT To Say And Five Things To Say In A Trauma Involving Children


He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. 1 Corinthians 1:4


He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever. Revelation 21:4


Parents Of Murdered Children: pomc.com



This song has reminded me of my sister, Cassondra Brown 1984-2003, since the first time I heard it shortly after her death: 

So you STILL Think God Is A Merciful God?!

A beautiful perspective from a woman who was at the midnight showing of Batman with her two daughters.

Who's watching you?

Kaylie just broke my necklace. 

I didn't even see that she had it in her sticky little hands... and then I heard the sound of dozens of beads hitting the floor all at once & rolling in every single direction.

At that moment, I had a choice to make:

#1 - I could freak out. "What did you do?? How did you get that?? You broke my necklace!! I loved that necklace!! You should have been more careful!! That wasn't yours!! That wasn't a toy!!"

#2 - I could exercise some self control and act like someone that I would be proud for my children to imitate.

Thankfully, I had just read this scripture today,
"Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ." 1 Corinthians 11:1
So, by God's grace, I cheerfully hopped up and we made a game of picking up the beads together.

This experience has reminded me that my children are watching everything I do.

Every time I vent to Eric about having a bad day.
Every time I choose to have another cup of coffee with facebook instead of washing the dishes.
Every time I roll my eyes at something Eric does (not that I ever do that).
Every time I lose my patience with the kids.
The girls notice it all.

When Paul wrote the letter to the Corinthians, he wasn't talking to kids.
He was inviting his peers to watch his every move so they could compare it to how Christ would have acted so they could imitate accordingly.

I don't know about you, but I don't think I'd like someone scrutinizing my every move and comparing it to how Jesus would have acted.
Why?
Because I wouldn't measure up very well.

Who's watching you?

"A dream without a plan is just a wish"

"A dream without a plan is just a wish."

-Larry Elder

RESOLUTION: the state or quality of being resolute; firm determination; expression of desire or intent.

A few years ago, my New Year's resolution was... to not make any more New Year's resolutions... And that's the first one I've kept. Ever.


It seemed to me that the same people were making the same resolutions every year because they hadn't  accomplished them the previous year. I can count on one hand how many resolutions I know about that have made it past February.
And I've personally never made a resolution that made it to the end of January, leaving me with feelings of guilt, failure, and hopeless frustration.

Then this year I had a brilliant idea!

This year, instead of resolutions, I would set real goals!

GOAL:  an observable and measurable end result having one or more objectives to be achieved within a more or less fixed time frame.

The reason I know this idea is so brilliant is because when I shared this new brilliance with my husband Eric, he didn't think I was brilliant on my own.


Eric has been reading Dave Ramsey's EntreLeadership and he thought I had read the chapter entitled "Start with a Dream, End with a Goal", where Dave says, "Years ago Sharon and I started the tradition of setting goals at the beginning of the year. Not New Year's resolutions, but real goals."


I could get annoyed that my husband thought I was mooching off of other people's brilliance, but I've decided to take it as a compliment instead. If Dave Ramsey thought enough about this whole "goals vs. resolutions" thing to write it in his book, then it has to be brilliant, right? Right?


Eric suggested I read that chapter and I'm so glad he did. In fact, I suggest you do, too because I'm not going to tell you all the good bits I got from it.


But I will give you a couple of quotes to pique your interest and so you know what the heck I'm talking about for the rest of this post:


"You just can't do big things without making your goals specific, measurable, yours, with a time limit, and in writing."


Dave Ramsey, along with other goal gurus, know that "you have to set goals carefully and intentionally in every one of [the following] areas":

1. Career
2. Financial
3. Spiritual
4. Physical
5. Intellectual
6. Family
7. Social

Zig Ziglar calls this "the wheel of life."
"If you leave one side of the wheel flat, you have a flat tire."
Some of these "spokes" come more easily to me than others. 

Photo by All That Jazz Photography

But when I told Eric that I didn't want to set any physical goals he said, "Then you'll have a flat tire."


Dangit.

So if I don't work on my "spare tire", apparently I'll have a "flat tire" in my goal setting.


I'm thinking and praying through how to stretch myself in the areas that are not easy for me, without setting what Derek Sivers calls "bad goals" which you can read about here.

I'll probably take some advice from Dave Ferguson: 6 Questions That Create A New Future.

I may even go crazy and take Jon Acuff up on this challenge: I dare you to do this with me. 
 
I'm still torn about sharing my specific, measurable, time limited goals in these 7 areas with you all and possibly embarrassing myself by revealing what I want to work on, or if I want to heed Derek Siver's advice to "zip it", which you can watch at the bottom of this post and/or read about here.

Happy 2012 and may you all go confidently in the direction of your dreams!

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams!"

-Henry David Thoreau

Unless Life Gives You Water & Sugar, Your Lemonade Is Gonna Suck.

A fb friend just posted:
I get so tired of people telling me "you just need a positive attitude" when I'm sick and can't do something... "UNLESS LIFE GIVES YOU WATER AND SUGAR, YOUR LEMONADE IS GONNA SUCK."

Or in the words of Job, "What miserable comforters you are!"


Are those "positive attitude" people wrong? Probably not.

Is it what my fb friend needed to hear? Evidently not.

Romans 12:15 says, "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn."

I come from a self-proclaimed "family of sorrow", an identity which I do not claim for myself or my own nuclear family, so I fight tooth and nail against wallowing.

But not against comforting. Not against being a friend.

A friend we'll call "Joe" recently shared with a few friends that he's struggling with something emotionally. Having recently been in a similar battle myself, I can empathize and I understand that it is not an overnight process. But many of his friends are giving him advice that he already knows but just isn't up for emotionally yet.

There is a time to comfort and a time to challenge.

Challenge will not be accepted if the timing is wrong.

I'm convinced that no amount of exhorting will help Joe because he already wants what all this good and even biblical advice would accomplish. He's just waiting for his emotions to catch up. The rest of us need to be patient.

Sometimes what a person needs is sympathy, not a step-by-step plan to pick themselves up by their bootstraps or to change their perspective. Giving advice in that moment may make you seem like an unsympathetic know-it-all.



Maybe my "lemonade" fb friend just needs someone to say, "I'm so sorry. How frustrating! I'm praying for healing for you. Can I come help with housework or bring your family a meal?"

Maybe Joe needs someone to say, "This must be so hard for you. Is there anything I can do to help?"
Maybe Joe just needs someone to listen instead of talk.

Have you ever received good advice but it wasn't what you needed?

Have you ever given good advice that was received badly because they just weren't ready to hear it?

How did that go?

If Life gives you lemons... keep it away from open wounds...

"He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us." 2 Corinthians 1:4

green-eyed monster

Confessions of a Genevieve:
I prefer to only let you see the best of me.
Sure, sometimes I tell you about my mistakes and most pathetic moments, but it's almost always after I've come through them and I've learned some great wisdom and I'm looking good again.

So let's try something new:  I am a hot mess right now.

A few months ago we lost our baby.
"The Lord gave me what I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord!”
We grieved the loss of our baby, but we know that God can be trusted and I thought my heart was good and I was at peace.

And then I saw a friend's facebook photo:
a positive home pregnancy test.

The real state of my heart was exposed. 
I cried out to the Lord in my jealousy and envy, 
"Lord, she has two babies under the age of 2! What about me?!"

And then last week a friend of mine sat in my living room and said, "I'm 9 weeks pregnant."

I burst into tears. 
Of course I'm happy for her! 
And yet I can't help wishing it was me.
After praying through it I thought I was good again.

But today... her facebook post:
"Today, I am grateful for a bun in the oven." 
And she had a link to her beautiful blog post on the same subject.
I started sobbing and have only recently stopped sobbing. 

Wait, no. Still sobbing.

I can't fix this envy in me. Only God can.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

UPDATES:

#1: Someone Is Missing

#2: Naming Hadassah
#3: I Got To Hear Her Cry

If this is all TMI, you have Jon Acuff to thank: How to find a great waiter (and be a great blogger)