Would Be Birthday

Dear Benjamin,

Well, the "perfect day" has finally arrived. 10/10/10. And this isn't at all how I expected to spend this day. I expected to be in the hospital tonight, holding you and looking into your eyes for the first time.

Instead, we spent the evening remembering you and wishing we could have looked into your eyes just once.

We have a tradition in our family that we make a garden stone for each of our kids when they're a week old. We put their hand and feet prints in the stone and decorate it before putting it in our yard. Here's what your brothers' stones look like:

Gideon:


Canaan:


So today, on what would have been your birthday, we decided to make a stone for you anyway. Nana and Papa came over to help us.

First, Daddy mixed the concrete:


Then we took turns putting white and clear stones into the wet cement:






We let it dry and then put it in the garden where it belongs. I think it turned out beautifully!


Sweet Benjamin, I hope you know how much I wish you were here. I'm so sorry that we'll never get to know you like we'd like. But I'm only sorry for us. I'm not sorry for you. Because you, sweet boy, are not missing out on anything at all. You have your perfect, glorified body already! You are in the presence of Jesus! Yes, I'm your mommy and I selfishly want you with me. But how could I wish to take you away from where you are. What better birthday than to have a truly perfect day!

Welcome Readers

Until today, this blog has been a private affair with its readers limited to my husband and my best friend. Today however, I know many of you will stumble over here through You Glo Girl! or some other source. I hope God blesses you while you're here.

If you'd like to read Benjamin's story from the beginning, click here.

Otherwise, there are a few quick tidbits I've come to experience regarding the loss of an unborn child that I'd like to mention as sort of a PS to this blog...

First is that the experience never leaves you. I have spoken with women who lost babies over twenty years ago, and they still reach out to me with empathy and compassion because they remember so well how it felt. The loss becomes a part of you, it stays with you forever, and to be honest, I don't think any of us would want it any other way.

Secondly, the experience creates an instantaneous bond between women who have lost babies. I am amazed that women I've casually been acquainted with for years have suddenly become closer just because we share this crazy, awful experience. It's a bond that none of us would ever pray for, but one for which we are eternally grateful nonetheless.

Lastly, this experience is not exclusive to women. Sure, it's our bodies that go through the change from full to empty. But daddies feel the loss too. If that's one thing I would change, it would be that others reach out to men who've lost children too. So many people asked my husband how I was doing in the days and weeks following our loss. (And I was truly touched, to be sure!) But it was a rare occurrence that someone actually asked how he was doing as well. He was a rock. He was a huge source of comfort and support for me. But he cried too. If the opportunity presents itself to acknowledge a daddy's grief, do so. And if it doesn't, do so anyway. The typical man might blow it off and change the subject back to his wife, but at least he'll know that his loss has been noted.

I hope you're here today out of curiosity and not because you've "been there," but if you are here because you've been touched by a premature goodbye like us, my heart and prayers are with you.

May the "God of all comfort" (2 Cor. 1:3) truly comfort you.

Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah

One of Gideon's favorite rides at Disney World was Splash Mountain. It has its origins from the 1946 Disney movie Song of the South, (currently out of production due to its "southern content") which features Uncle Remus, Br'er Rabbit, the Tar Baby, and the laughing place. But even if you haven't heard of any of that, I'm sure you've heard (and probably even sung) some lines from its famous song, Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah.

Well, yesterday Gideon was running around the house all morning singing, "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee,ay! My oh my what a beautiful day!" over and over again.

And I really had to agree with him.

It seems as though, once again, God is already protecting me from and preparing me for the upcoming would-be due date for Benjamin. It's just days away now, and I expected to be forlorn, introspective, and a permanent resident of the land of "what if" by now.

Instead, I'm singing zip-a-dee-doo-dah.

We returned from Florida to beautiful, fall weather, and the crisp air feels like a hug from God Himself. I am keenly aware of and humbly thankful for my many, many blessings, and I can truly feel the Joy of my salvation, plus the Joy of life itself. I love my husband, our boys, our home, our friends, our family, our church. But mostly, I love that my God is a God of comfort, because I feel like He's given me divine chicken noodle soup and hot tea in the midst of the flu.

But here's what is so strange. He hasn't necessarily given me any new or different blessing than, say, a month ago.

He's just given me the ability to see and notice the blessings I already have.

So often when we go through trying times, we pray that God will "fix it." Maybe we want a rewind button or a fast forward button so we can skip past the funk or return to better days. But God is not in the business of undoing anything.

Instead, we should pray to see our circumstances through His eyes. Our blessings rather than our trials. The eternal rather than the temporal. His sovereignty rather than His mystery.

Comfort does not come in skipping over the grief. It comes in being carried through it.

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. - Psalm 28:7

I don't know about you, but I think Uncle Remus stole Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah from David. :-)

Dear Little One,

Dear Tiny Occupant of my Tummy,

First, let me apologize that it's taken me so long to write to you. To be honest, I have been hesitant to tell you hello for fear that hello would lead to goodbye.

And I've had enough goodbyes lately.

But that's a story for another day, and for now, let me just say how excited I am that you are on your way to us! Even now, God is knitting you together and I cannot wait to see His masterpiece!

You are already loved! You are already special! You already have a great purpose in life that someday your Creator will reveal to you.

We may get to see you again on Friday if Dr. Nguyen brings us to the ultrasound room again, and I am so excited about that possibility. I pray God keeps you safe. I pray He keeps you healthy.

But mostly, I pray that your life will glorify Him.

I'm so excited to meet you in March!

Love,
Mommy

A Little Escape

When I miscarried the first time, it happened to be during the same time that Gideon stopped nursing. Now, women can experience post-partum depression at about any stage during or after pregnancy, but I've read that when a child finally weans himself, the change in hormones for the mother can be a trigger for depression.

Needless to say, when Gideon was weaned and we learned that I'd miscarried all in a matter of a couple of weeks, it did not do well for my emotions.

I remember crying. A lot.

Then when we didn't get pregnant again as soon as we hoped, I desperately needed something, anything, to look forward to to help the whole depression thing go away.

I know I should be saying that I turned to Scripture 100% and prayed and fasted my way through it, but that wouldn't be the entire truth. Obviously, my faith in my wonderful, sovereign Father and the ways He's proved Himself Good over and over again were my primary help. Like 99% of it...

But we also decided to go to Disney World, and I gotta admit, that helped me too! :-)

So when we lost Benjamin, I told Jason in passing one day that I hoped I didn't get so depressed we'd have to go to Disney World again just to get me out of it.

Well, that's all I had to say and within a matter of weeks, (maybe even days?) we had another trip booked.


We just returned from spending nine days at Disney World, and all I can do is praise God for allowing us to go on such an amazing trip. It was so wonderful to spend all day with my boys, and to see their little eyes light up at the simplest things (getting photos taken with characters, rollercoasters, bus rides, fireworks!) was just the most amazing thing ever!

Of course, beneath the surface of the pixie dust and mouse ears, I thought about a lot while in the Magic Kingdom.

I thought about the first time that Jason and I went to Disney World - before we had kids - and how I watched all of the parents pushing around their worn out little kiddos in strollers and how I prayed that God would bless us with that same expereince someday. He did (and thank you!)

I thought about Benjamin, of course, and the truth that if he was still with us, I'd be at home on last-minute baby countdown mode awaiting his arrival instead of standing in line to see Buzz Lightyear. For some reason, God thought we should be here instead, so while I still don't understand it, I'll focus on the good that comes from the bad and thank Him for it.


And I thought about our other child, still in my tummy, unknown to us but fully known to God. And I thought about how even when I'm hugging Cinderella or riding the monorail or Soarin' over a virtual California landscape, God is there in it all - holding us both in His hands, knitting another little soul one divine stitch at a time.

And I really started to look forward to meeting our next little child...

Still Here

I've been pretty quiet the last few weeks, but that is typical of the first trimester for me. It was strange going from three months or so of feeling sick and exhausted, to having six weeks off, to going to another three months of feeling sick and exhausted again! I'm not complaining, but I will say I wouldn't want to do it again back-to-back like that.

I'm almost to the second trimester, and we still haven't make any blanket annoucements yet, but people are slowly beginning to find out we're expecting again. Apparently, my stomach did not get the memo on keeping things quiet and is giving me away pound by pound!

I'm enjoying the anticipation of fall, but with each day, I'm acutely aware that October 10th is getting closer and closer...

Special Request

So Gideon does not know that a baby is on the way, but lately he has had "baby fever!" He has asked me several times when I'm going to have another baby in my tummy, and I just tell him that it depends on when God blesses us with one. When I asked him why he wanted to know, he looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Because I want one!"

The funny part is that when I offer to pray for a baby during bedtime prayers, he insists that I pray for a baby sister instead of a baby brother!

So I asked him the other day, "Gideon, if God does give us a baby sister, what do you think we should name her?"

Gideon: "Uh... Kevin."

Hilarious, but NO! :-)

Finally Some Fun!

Dear Benjamin,

This weekend was Jennifer's wedding, and it ended up being a fabulous time! She was the last of us to be married, and to watch her and Kevyn together was just a sweet reminder of God's perfect timing in our lives. I had mixed emotions the whole time - sad knowing that I should be wearing that tent-like size 14 dress because I should be six months pregnant with you by now, but still glad that I was able to wear the official bridesmaid dress instead (it was much more flattering!).

I found it ironic that after all the drama of the last few months, I still ended up being pregnant in her wedding, but I still didn't say anything because I didn't want to take away from her moment in the spotlight. Instead, I had her photographer take a secret picture of me holding up a sign that said, "Due March, 2011." I figured by the time she gets her wedding photos in several weeks, it will be just about the time I'm ready to share our news, so it will be a fun way for her to find out.

All in all, the weekend was fabulous, and while you were always in my heart and in my mind (after all, you should have been there), I still had a great time!


Another strange blessing came on Sunday. We stayed in the Dallas area for an extra night in order to meet up with family the next day. I saw relatives I hadn't seen in decades, and it melted my heart to see them again after so much time.

But while were were looking through (very) old family photos, I realized that Benjamin is somewhat of a family name. It was my great-great (I think) grandfather's name as well as a few others through the generations. I had no idea when we chose your name that there was some family ties to it, but it was a special blessing to discover.

I'm still thinking about you all the time, but I'm finding myself smiling a lot as well...

Love,
Mommy

Great Expectations

As I suspected (because of my crazy dreams), and much to our surprise, we are expecting another baby again! I definitely did not expect it to happen again so soon, but since when do I understand God's timing anymore! :-)

Things are a little different this time around. We have joy, of course, but we're a little reserved in expressing it, and I think we'll wait as long as possible to share the news.

We've been to the doctor, and he doesn't have any reason to think we should encounter any problems. And so far, all is going well. So for now, it's another round of morning sickness and expanding wastelines, and I will endure/enjoy it for as long as God allows me to.

God willing, our precious little one will arrive in March, and I pray, not a day too soon!

Moving Forward

Dear Benjamin,

Today I bought a pregnancy test.

Scratch that. Today I bought four pregnancy tests. (The 99 cent Store; it's a great thing!)

I've been pregnant enough times to recognize the early signs, and for me one of the first tell-tale signs of being with child is a slew of crazy, memorable, over-the-top, ultra-realistic dreams.

A lately, I've had some doozies.

So I went shopping, loaded up my basket with cheap, but always accurate, pregnancy tests, and will put them up until I can use them sometime next week.

But here's thing. I'm not quite sure how I feel about being pregnant again. Being pregnant means anticipating the birth of your child. It means planning for his or her future. It means getting the family prepared for a new addition.

It means looking forward, and to be honest, I'm not quite finished looking back yet.

A huge part of me is still holding on to your future and anticipating October even though I know you won't be here to spend it with us. I want you to be remembered. I don't want to jump so quickly into the anticipation of our next child that you are forgotten before we've even memorialized you.

It makes me feel like I'm at the airport and the voice over the loud speakers is calling, "Last chance for boarding. All remaining passengers must board NOW!" and I haven't gotten a chance to say goodbye yet.

And I don't want to say goodbye yet.

I'm just not ready for goodbye yet.

Most of the time, we get frustrated with God's timing because He seems to be taking longer than we'd like. For the first time, it feels as if He's a little early.

But, intellectually I know that God is neither late nor early, so if He has chosen to bless us with a child once again, I know full well that the timing is perfect and I will praise Him wholeheartedly. And I know that someday soon I will see snippets of His perfect plan and how all of this has unfolded as it has for a reason.

Maybe I do have to move forward a little sooner than I expected. But that doesn't mean I have to say goodbye.

It simply means I'll be glancing in the rear-view mirror a lot as I go.

Salt in the Wounds

I've learned a lot over the past few weeks about the medical billing world, and none of it is very pretty. It all started when I received a lovely little letter from our insurance company regarding my hospital stay and Benjamin's delivery. It said:

Based on our review, this service or supply is not approved because it does not satisfy the criteria for establishing medical necessity and appropriateness... No benefits will be provided...

Translation: You're about to owe over $10,000 in medical bills for delivering a child you didn't even get to keep.

Now, I know that I had the option of staying home and going through the entire, um, process, alone, but after having been there, done that, I can assure you, every bit of my time at the wonderful St. John's hospital was medically necessary. I guess if I were one of those women who opt for no pain meds, no epidural, water births, or whatever, maybe I could have pulled it off. But then again, remember the whole possibility of "uterine rupture" or "necessary C-section?" I don't know that Jason and I could have handled that by ourselves in our living room.

So, I called the insurance company, hormonally poised to shake someone silly through the phone lines, when I was dealt with yet another blow. The helpful agent explained to me: "This procedure is not covered because your medical records indicate that you had an abortion."

Excuse me, what!?

I quickly and emphatically explained to her what really happened, you know, the ultrasound that rocked the world. And that's when she explained further: "I'm so sorry that happened. But unfortunately, the medical codes are the same for a miscarriage as they are for an abortion. All the code says is that a pregnancy was terminated. It does not distinguish whether the termination was voluntary or involuntary."

I'm sorry, but I'm just a little bit floored that in the decades of modern medicine, no one thought to distinguish between two such drastically different circumstances. I wanted to insist someone from claims call up Nurse Cameron and let her explain the midnight duet between the Doppler machine and my stomach that medically confirmed - for the third time - that our child was not "aborted" in the typical sense of the word. Did his life end abruptly while still in the womb? Yes. But his days were numbered by God Himself, and it just so happened that that number was very small.

I'm not worried about the financial aspect of it all. To be honest, I know that if God can handle the people at David's Bridal and protect me from having to buy bridesmaids dresses in bulk, then He can more than handle a little medical claim gone askew. It's just the principle of it all. Because of this stupid glitch in the world of medical billing, the burden is on me to provide my entire medical record to my insurance company in order to reopen the claim and have the insurance applied.

That, and now it's "out there" that I've had an abortion, even if it isn't true.

I remember reading Sarah Palin's memoir, Going Rogue, in which she tells that she went through something very similar. When running for Vice President with a Pro-Life platform, someone somewhere dug up her medical records and reported that this Pro-Life candidate had had an abortion in her past.

Not true.

Like me, she'd experienced a miscarriage, and like me, the medical coding associated with it did not distinguish between a voluntary termination of a pregnancy or an involuntary termination. On paper, the pregnancy was "aborted" and the details associated with it were buried beneath the codes.

It makes me sick and it makes me mad that somewhere out there someone could argue the same against me. In those circumstances, the truth usually does come out loud and clear, but it's like printing a retraction on the bottom of the last page of the newspaper; the damage is already done.

I don't like having my name associated with an "abortion" even if it is a medical term and even if it is synonymous with miscarriage. I have many, many friends who have had abortions, and I know the pain and regret they have had to work through. It's not that abortion is unforgivable or that it's any more heinous than any of the awful things I actually have done; it's just that I don't want anyone anywhere to ever have reason to think that I didn't want my sweet Benjamin.

Rhonda's Dream

A week or so before I learned that we lost Benjamin, my friend Rhonda had a dream about me. (Yes, this is the same Rhonda who God has used to bless me so many times before.) She told me about the dream when she first learned what had happened, and she said that she even wrote about it in her journal. So today, she finally sent me her journal entry:

Emily was playing in a river. There was unspeakable joy. The river was made of water that was like diamonds, and she was throwing the water up and it was like diamonds were sparkling in the air. There was a music, but it was not really audible, like it was coming from our hearts. The whole place was singing, and she was dancing to the music in this river.

All of the sudden a dark cloud came and it was full of thunder and lightening and it was threatening to overtake the atmosphere...I saw a look on her face that was fearful and also confused, like she did not know what to think about what was happening. Why would this storm cloud come and invade such a beautiful place? All of the sudden a look of clarity and determination came over her and she decided to start dancing again in the river (how like Emily)...The cloud was still there and had cast a shadow over the whole place, but it was like she was not going to let it take away the joy that she had from the beginning... I don't know if I should tell Emily about this or not, please help me to know LORD.

It turns out, my storm clouds came before she had to worry about whether to tell me about her dream or not. So when she shared with me that she saw me dancing in the midst of my storm, it really touched me, and I immediately had hope. It challenged me, somehow. Challenged me to dance and not drown.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

I firmly believe that one of the main reasons why God allows us to go through grief is so that we may have empathy for others who experience grief as well. Grief leads to ministry. After my last miscarriage, I'll be honest, I tried to skip over the grief and jump straight into the ministry aspect of it all. Bad idea. This time, I'm going to allow this grief to be what it is for as long as necessary. I'm sad. I'm not over it. I'm not ready to move on yet. But someday I will.

Someday, I'll dance.

Charmed

Dear Benjamin,

A couple of weeks ago, Sarah asked if we could meet for supper soon because she had something for me. So this evening, the boys and I met Sarah and Cameron at the Chick-fil-A in Pearland. After supper, she gave me this: A beautiful charm from James Avery. And it wasn't just from her; it was from all of the girls - Robin, Jen, and Jennifer as well.

I had several waves of emotion sweep over me at once. The first wave - that the gift was from all of them. I was so blessed and so thankful for my friends who care enough to talk behind my back in order to come up with the perfect way to show how much they care.

The second wave - that the gift was a charm. Benjamin, you may never know this about me, but I love charms! I'm the type of person who likes to pick out jewelry based on the meaning behind it rather than the price tag, and charms are a great way to get unique, but meaningful jewelry. My favorite charms are the birthstone charms that Daddy gave me to mark Gideon and Canaan's birthdays and my tambourine charm that I have because of Jephthah's daughter. My charms remind me of God's blessings, God's lessons, or a combination of the two. So, it was already in my mind to find the perfect charm to remember the short weeks I spent carrying you inside of me, but I just haven't gotten around to it yet. So when I saw that the girls bought me a charm, once again, I was blown away by God's faithfulness. He knew what I needed, and He provided it for me without me even having to ask.

The third wave hit me when Sarah explained why they chose that particular charm. "We know that you'll never forget Benjamin and that he will always be in your heart. Well, we just want to assure you that he'll always be in ours as well, and we won't forget him either."

Of course that's been my very prayer. That you won't be forgotten.

I put the charm on a necklace, and I love thinking of you every time I catch a glimpse of it in the mirror. Please tell God thank you for me for giving me such wonderful friends and for using their arms to let me feel His love.

A Grief Observed

Dear Benjamin,

Yesterday at church, my friend Rhonda gave me a little Mother's Day gift because she knew it would be a difficult day. I was very touched, but I didn't open the gift bag yet because class was starting.

Later, while Rhonda was teaching, for some reason I kept thinking that I needed to go to the library and check out A Grief Observed by CS Lewis. I've always wanted to read it, but never have, and I thought now was as good a time as any.

When class was over, I headed downstairs to the library to search for the book. However, as I looked in the windows the library was packed full of people, there was a long line, and I realized I just didn't want to face the crowds. Instead I just wanted to get to my seat in the worship center as quick as possible and not talk to anyone. The book, I decided, could wait another week.

When I got to my seat, Daddy was already sitting down, and he asked what was in the bag. I said, "I don't know. It's from Rhonda." Then, I opened it and found inside a copy of A Grief Observed! The first words out of my mouth were, "Oh my goodness, that girl is freaking me out!" Daddy asked why, and I said, "It's like she is inside my head!" and told him about the book. I was cracking up!

With the book was also a sweet little baby bonnet crocheted in soft purple yarn. Rhonda explained that she received the bonnet when her daughter, Hope, was born. The hospital gave it to her because Hope had to remain in the hospital for awhile after birth and Rhonda had to go home without her.

It is really amazing how often God has used Rhonda to answer my specific prayers and meet my specific needs, and to be quite honest, it really is kind of freaky sometimes! But, like I told her, it's freaky in a good way.

Later, when I emailed Rhonda to tell her thank you, she wrote back: "That is so funny about the book because I was not planning on sending that and had even forgotten that I had it. But once I got the other stuff in the bag, it felt like something was missing so I said, 'What is it God? Help me find it quick.' And I went to my book shelf and there it was."

Once again, God is providing what I need before I even know that I need it.

Mother's Day

Dear Benjamin,

For twenty-three years now, I have had a love/hate relationship with Mother’s Day. It can be a fun, amazing day celebrating the miraculous gift that God gives us in our moms, but there are also times it can be a day that rips at your heart and causes a pain that is so deep and so real, you just want to go into a complete state of numbness until the wretched day is over. I’ve felt both ends of the spectrum.

Mother’s Day, 1986
I had no idea that it would be my last Mother’s Day with my own mom so I have absolutely no memories at all. But just recently I found a photo from that day. We were at a restaurant and I guess the waiter took a picture of us as part of the “Mother’s Day Special.” It was one of those old-fashioned Polaroid pictures that you have to shake to make it come into view. Mom was sitting behind the table and Meghan, Jesse, and I had gathered beside her.

I think she was wearing a blue dress.

When I found the photo, I smiled because it was a cute picture and I could tell that we must have just come from church because we were all dressed up. Then I saw, “Mother’s Day, 1986” scratched in pen along the bottom and that’s when I fell apart.

I wanted to step into that picture and grab the 10-year-old girl with big hair and big glasses and shake some sense into her. “Hug her tighter!” I wanted to scream. “Don’t you know that this is it? It may be a silly little Hallmark-initiated day, but this is the last chance you’ll have to wish her a happy Mother’s Day. Just hug her tighter, tell her you love her like you mean it, and don’t be so quick to get back to your chips and queso!”

But I couldn’t reason with the naïve girl in the picture, so I just cried instead.

Mother’s Day, 2006 – thirty years later
It was my first Mother’s Day as a mom myself because I was pregnant with your older brother, Gideon. When they asked all the moms to stand up at church, I stood and was never prouder to stick out my big huge belly than at that moment!

Mother’s Day, 2007
This was my first Mother’s Day as a mother-in-action and not just by name only. It was by far the most wonderful Mother’s Day in my entire life! Daddy took me and Gideon to a park in League City the week before and spent the day taking pictures of the two of us together. Then he gave me the photos and a tote-bag with one of the photos for Mother’s Day. I remember being very surprised that I had turned into one of those women who loves to get cheesy gifts about or from her children, but I really did cherish those photos as if they were worth more than the Hope Diamond itself!

And for the first time in years, Mother’s Day felt more like a day of celebration than it did a day of remembrance.

Mother’s Day, 2008
What a difference a year makes. I became pregnant sometime in August of that year and found out just a few days before Gideon’s first birthday. We were happy, of course, but I was especially ecstatic because of the projected due date of our second child. He/she was due in mid-May, but because of the past c-section, I knew the chances for a 5/7/08 baby were very high. Oh, how I wanted our child to be born on that day and I knew that God had divinely orchestrated it for a special purpose. You see, May 7th was my own mom’s birthday, and this year, she would have been 60! I was so thrilled to get to honor her in such an awesome way and couldn’t wait to find out what we were having. I was sure it would be a girl this time.

However, just a couple of weeks later, I miscarried, and the child I though I’d bring into this world on my Mother’s birthday was already in Heaven with her.

And as it turned out, when 5/7/08 finally came, I ended up mourning the loss of four generations of women in my life.

My mom, who would have been 60.

My unborn sister, who died when she did since Mom was five months pregnant when she died.

My (daughter?), who should have been born that day.

And my grandma, MeeMaw, who was in the hospital and on the last hours of her life. She died the next day.

Four generations of loss all culminating into that one, awful Mother’s Day week.

But, as God so faithfully does, he quickly began to take the scales from my eyes so I could see how He was working behind the scenes. First, I realized as I sat in the funeral for my sweet MeeMaw on Mother’s Day afternoon that had I just had our child like I should have, there would have been a chance of being too sick or sore to attend MeeMaw’s funeral. I might have missed it.

Don’t get me wrong. If given the choice I would choose without hesitation bringing a child into the world over attending a funeral any day, but as it were, I’m glad I got to be there.

Secondly, despite the fact that I was physically feeling the pain of losing all of these people, I was surprisingly calm. I couldn’t figure it out, but somehow I could tell God was taking some of my burden and placing it onto Himself (sounds just like Him, doesn’t it!)

It had been about eight months since the miscarriage and we still were not yet pregnant again. As per tradition, Brother John has a special prayer time on Mother’s Day for all of the couples who are struggling with infertility. At the last minute, your Daddy grabbed my hand and we stood up along with all of the other couples who were desperately wanting children.

I learned later that I was already pregnant with your brother, Canaan, and just didn’t know it at that time. And when I get pregnant, my emotions typically level out. And when my emotions level out, I don’t cry as much… And you can see how God prepared me in advance for what He knew I was going to have to endure during that Mother's Day week. So though the week was full of more downs than ups, God got me through it, and had already answered our prayer for another child in giving us Canaan.

Mother’s Day, 2009
Another great Mother’s Day. Now I had two little boys to take pictures with and enjoy on Mother’s Day. I remember being happy once again, but most of all, being very, very thankful.

Mother’s Day, 2010
The love/hate relationship rears its ugly head once again, and if I’ve ever wanted to skip over a holiday before, it is this one.

Benjamin, you should be here with me to celebrate. That’s all there is to it.

Until 11 days ago, my main concern about this Mother’s Day was that we wouldn’t be able to find out if we were having a boy or a girl in time to tell everyone on Mother’s Day.

Oh, how I wish that were the worst that had happened.

Instead, my body still looks like it’s carrying a child, but my tummy is empty. That, and I can’t stop thinking about Heaven.

I’m thinking about you and your (sister?) and wondering if you are together. How does it work when a child goes to heaven? I’ve heard that a baby would get the new glorified body of baby, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. And if it is, then what about you? You were only 4 inches long and your (sister?) was not even developed enough to have a heartbeat. What do you look like now???

And more importantly, will I recognize you when I get there?

Have you met my unborn sister (your Aunt) and your grandma Linda (my mom)? Are you all together? Do you share a mansion?

I know you’re with Jesus now and in my finite mind I cannot grasp how wonderful it really is for you. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of it and I think I know. But I don’t really know.

Because if I really “got it” I wouldn’t wonder what I’m wondering now. My biggest questions on Mother’s Day…

Do you miss me?

Do you even know about me?

Gideon’s eyes. Canaan’s smile. That’s what I need to focus on today. I miss you, but I know I am blessed. I may have two babies in heaven, but I also have two right here as well. And for now, I Must. Go. Hug. Them. Now!

Ugh. Why isn’t this day over yet?

David's Bridal

Dear Benjamin,

I was dreading going to David's Bridal tonight. Jennifer's wedding is in July and I'm her matron of honor. When she picked out bridesmaids dresses several months ago, I tried on the official dress, and the 6 fit perfectly. Well, after becoming pregnant, I tried on dresses again, and after only gaining THREE pounds, the 6, 8, and even the 10 didn't fit at all! So, Jennifer was gracious enough to let me order a different, much more forgiving, style dress for her wedding and I ended up ordering an empire waist, size 14 dress in order to fit my ever-growing, 6-month pregnant figure come July.

Then, I lost you.

And strangely enough, one of my first concerns was, "What am I going to do about this dumb dress situation now?!"

I've run into some snooty people at bridal shops before, and their policy clearly states no refunds or exchanges for ANY reason. I was petrified that I was going to end up with a $150 size 14 tent-like dress and then have to pay for another $150 dress on top of that.

So I prayed. I prayed really hard. I prayed that somehow the ladies at David's Bridal would show me mercy and exchange the dress without giving me an attitude, and I prayed that I wouldn't have to come behind the counter and pound some 21-year-old, 100-lb sales consultant for being unreasonable to a woman still dealing with the remnants of pregnancy hormones.

Then I called your Daddy and told him that if I wound up on the 10 o'clock news, I was sorry.

When I got to the store, I went to the girl sitting behind the welcome desk and told her my situation. "Is there anyway I can do an exchange given the circumstances?"

She seemed to blink back tears as she said, "Absolutely! That's no problem at all." My shoulders lightened by tons and I was already thanking God. Then the girl stood up and I could see that she was about seven or eight months pregnant herself.

I know it was no coincidence. God put the exact right person in my path to help me and answer my prayers.

I exchanged the old dress for the new one, didn't have to pay a dime extra, and most miraculously of all (since I haven't yet lost that much weight), is that the 6 once again fit me perfectly.

He is the same

Dear Benjamin,

Today was a tough day. Perhaps it is that Mother’s Day is just three days away, or maybe I'm still fuming over the dumb Dr. Seuss encounter, but whatever the reason, I’m missing you like crazy today.

I’ve been on a “read the Bible in a year” plan, which has now taken me almost three years to complete. But in the spirit of optimism, I’m already looking forward to next year because I have a brand new one-year Bible and plan to read out of that one rather than my normal study Bible.

For some reason, I got the urge to crack open my one-year Bible today and see what passage it had set aside for April 30, the day you were born.

I flipped it open, found the date, and couldn’t believe what followed:

Judges 11.

The story of Jephthah’s Daughter. My favorite Bible story ever, and the one that God used to show me so much of Himself that I had to go and write a book about it.

And it shows up on April 30.

I am amazed at how much our God cares about us. That was such a sweet gift and I was so grateful to find it. It was like He was reminding me once again that He never changes. Everything I learned about Him through JD’s story still applies today.

He still loves me. He still cares when I hurt. He's still not threatened by my grief. His ways are still best. His timing is still best. He still gives us sorrow in order to instill empathy in us. He still wants us to be honest with Him. He still wants us to cry, but He doesn’t want us to whine. We’re still to take the comfort His Spirit gives us and comfort others with it. He still loves me. He still loves me. He still loves me…

Benjamin, when you see Jesus today, would you tell Him thank you for me? It turns out I really needed that reminder.

Dumb Dr. Seuss

For some reason, Gideon chose to read Happy Birthday to You! by Dr. Seuss the other night. He'd gotten Jason to read it to him the night before, and when Jason saw me starting it, he said, "Are you sure you should be reading that?" I wasn't sure what he meant, but I quickly found out. We both had to struggle to get through it, and the dumb book is officially "lost" for a long time now...

If we didn't have birthdays, you wouldn't be you.
If you'd never been born, well then what would you do?
If you'd never been born, well then what would you be?
You might be a fish! Or a toad on a tree!
You might be a doorknob! Or three baked potatoes!
You might be a bag full of hard green tomatoes.
Or worse than all that... Why you might be a WASN'T!
A Wasn't has no fun at all. No, he doesn't.
A Wasn't just isn't. He just isn't present.
But you... You ARE YOU! And, now isn't that pleasant!

...

If you'd never been born, then you might be an ISN'T!
An Isn't has no fun at all. No he disn't.
He never has birthdays, and that isn't pleasant.
You have to be born, or you don't get a present.

The Perfect Day

Dear Benjamin,

I heard a song on the radio today and thought of you. It's a song I've listened to a million times, but I just heard it today. You know how I was so looking forward to 10/10/10. The perfect day. The perfect baby. I was so confident that God was going to answer that prayer and be glorified in the process... Well, I'm still reconciling all of that in my mind, but today I got another thought to add to the mix of questions and what-ifs and whys...

The Perfect Day
by Josh Bates

Creation waits for Him to move.
The revelation of the truth,
Every eye will finally see.
The perfect day will come at last.
He will break the darkened glass.
With everyone on bended knee,
Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a hundred years.

The perfect day will come I know.
When I will dance around the throne.
With the angels, I will give Him praise.
I will finally get to meet the who made joy complete.
The perfect One on the perfect day.
I am waiting for the perfect day.

The world I know will pass away.
Only his love will remain.
All His work will then be done.
With his children gathered 'round,
They will make a joyful sound,
Giving glory to the risen Son.
I'm just a dreamer and I am dreaming of the day.

I will keep my eyes focused on the prize.
I will run to the One who has called me.
Each new day begins singing songs to Him, hallelujah.
You alone are holy. You alone are holy.

His presence sweeter than before,
I won't be crying anymore.
More of Him is all I need.

You alone are holy. You alone are holy. You alone are holy.
Jesus, You are holy. You alone are holy. You alone are holy. You alone are holy. You alone are holy. You alone are holy.
I am waiting for the perfect day.

It's like God reminded me once again that the only perfect day will be when I see HIM face to face. I know that in my head, of course. But my heart still wants my perfect day in October with my perfect baby.

Telling Gideon

Not knowing ahead of time the drama that could result from my hospital stay and all, Jason and I put off telling Gideon about the baby. All he knew was that he got to spend the night at Nana and Papa's house, and that was that.

But we couldn't put it off forever.

On Saturday, after everything had gone well and I was "back to normal," we knew it was time. So while Canaan was sleeping, we sat in the living room and gave each other glances that clearly said, "You do it!" ("No, YOU do it!") I almost opted for Rock, Paper, Scissors, but figured that would be slightly inappropriate at a time like this.

The conversation went something like this (Jason and I shared the load, but I can't remember who said what):

Hey, babe, Daddy and I need to tell you something. You know how Mommy had a baby in her tummy? Well, we went to the doctor and found out that the baby got really sick. And since he was so sick, Jesus decided to go ahead and take him to heaven early. So, we're not going to be able to bring a baby home in October like we thought.

[silence]

We found out the baby was a boy, and we named him Benjamin.

[silence]

Does this make you sad?

[shakes head no]

Well, Mommy and Daddy are a little sad. We were looking forward to having another baby. Of course there's still a good chance that God will give us another baby someday. We just have to keep praying and see what happens.

Gideon: "Then we'll get more toys?"

That made us laugh, and we let the conversation end so he could have time to process it all.

Just a few days later, right in the middle of getting himself dressed, he asked, "Mom, do you have a baby in your tummy?"

I said, "No, not anymore, honey? Our baby is in heaven now with Jesus. Remember?"

"No, Mom. I know that. I mean do you have a new baby in your tummy yet?"

No even four years old, and already he has faith.

Walking

At 15 1/2 months old, Canaan finally chose today to start walking!

He took to the whole experience quite differently than Gideon did. Gideon took his first steps well before his first birthday, then spent months shuffling about a few steps at a time before he finally took to the whole walking thing fully at around 13 months or so.

Canaan just didn't walk at all. No first steps. No shuffling about. No inching away from the furniture. Just standing, falling, crawling.

Until today.

And - blastoff!

Still in his pjs, he got in the middle of the living room floor and stood up slowly rear first until he finally got steady. Then, he just took off. When we started saying, "Go! Go! Go!" to encourage him, he started saying it as well. "G-G-G!" he'd shout. He was cracking himself up, and each time he fell, he'd laugh, get to the middle of the floor again, stand up and start all over.

I honestly think he enjoyed falling as much as he enjoyed walking.

It was one of the funniest mornings ever! I sat on the couch, still recovering from yesterday, just laughing and loving my sweet boys. And while I was missing Benjamin with each and every breath, I was also so thankful that God had saved this precious milestone for today. A day when I needed so desperately to smile. A day when I needed to laugh.

Canaan has always been my little silly boy - always laughing, acting silly, not caring what anyone else thinks. I have a feeling this won't be the last time he makes me laugh when I need it so much. He is such a blessing. And to think, had I not had my first miscarriage, I wouldn't have my Canaan. What a blessing. What a strange, twisted, awesome blessing.

Leaving

Thankfully, the "best case scenario" is what ended up playing out. Natural delivery. No D&C needed. No C-section needed. No uterine damage at all.

And I find it ironic that in the short amount of time Benjamin was with us, he was still able to give me a special little gift that neither of my other boys could - a natural delivery.

A painless natural delivery, at that!

It's always been so strange to be wheeled into an operating room, put to sleep from the waist down, and lie there while someone else delivers your child into the world without so much as a sneeze from you.

With Benjamin, at least I felt like I was involved somehow.

Jason and I fell back asleep until morning when we got to see Benjamin one last time. I did not want to let him go. I wanted to hold him forever and never give him back. I wanted to take him home with us.

But, I knew we couldn't, and so, as best as we could, we told him... Goodbye.

I was discharged that morning and had to face that awful hallway once again. It was longer this time. Walking all the way down the labor and delivery wing, past the rows of rooms where mommies and daddies and babies were kissing and cuddling, past the nursery where someone had the foresight to close the blinds... my feet grew heavy and I couldn't stop myself from crying the whole way.

"Leaving is hard, isn't it?" the new morning nurse said. I just nodded.

Down the elevator, to the car.

No infant car seat needed.

We drove off, without him, and that was that.

Meeting Benjamin

It was somewhere around 4 in the morning that the contractions woke me up. I grimaced through them for a long time, but around 5 I realized that they weren't letting up. It was like one solid contraction that never released and I figured it was time for some pain medicine. I called wonderful Nurse Cameron, who came to my room in moments. She kept the lights low and spoke in hushed tones, but Jason still woke up and joined me by my bed.

Not knowing what to expect from this whole ordeal, I'll be honest, I didn't even realize that what I was feeling was actually labor. For some reason, it didn't even click.

Until my water broke.

That that would happen had never even crossed my mind. But before I could even process that that's what happened, I felt something... else.

"What was that?" I asked the nurse, and was careful not to look down.

She simply nodded and confirmed. "That was the baby."

Wow. Just like that, and he was out. No pushing. No pain. No nothing.

We had told her beforehand that we would leave it to her discretion as to whether or not we should see our baby. At only 15 or so weeks gestation, there was a whole slew of possibilities as to how he could look. And no doubt Nurse Cameron had seen them all. So instead, I waited to follow her lead.

She let Jason cut the cord. A very fatherly thing to do, and I know it meant the world to him. And within a few moments, she placed our tiny baby on something vaguely resembling a potholder and presented him to us.

And that's when I saw the very hand of God.

He was perfect. As perfect as a child could be at that stage of development. Born at 5:20 a.m. on 4/30/10, Benjamin Spross Ryan was four inches long and weighed less than an ounce.

He had legs and arms and tiny webbed fingers and toes. His little head was round and his eyelids, which had never even opened, remained closed. On the side of his head were two little places where his ears would be and his nostrils were just taking shape on his teeny tiny nose. And he also had sweet little lips that I would never get to kiss...

Dear Benjamin,

It's hard to explain just what I was feeling as I looked down at you. I felt love, of course, but to put it so plainly somehow feels like it cheapens it. I felt loss. I felt grief. I felt anguish. I felt regret.

But mostly, I felt honored.

I felt honored because I feel like I got to catch a rare glimpse of God in action. Like He was in the middle of creating something - Life - and He pressed the Pause button so I could see.

Psalm 139 holds one of my favorite passages of all time.

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

I'm not the world's best knitter, but I've done enough knitting to know how important each individual stitch is. When I looked at you, I understood how God "knits us together in our mother's womb." It was as if God was knitting...and just ran out of yarn.

I've never felt so small, yet so significant as I did when I held you in my hands.

Daddy talked to you a lot. He talked to you as if you could hear every single word. He told you how much we love you and how much we're going to miss you. And me, the writer, just sat there in silence because no words would even come.

But I did take pictures. I took some of you, and Nurse Cameron took some of the three of us. They aren't the kind of pictures we'll ever post on Facebook or on a blog or share with just anyone. They're more special than that.

You're more special than that.

And while I thought of a million things to say to you, and nothing at all at the same time, there was one thing I knew I wouldn't be able to say for a long time - if ever...

Goodbye.

Nurse Cameron

What happened at midnight that night is something I only know about because Jason told me about it later. But, it is one of the biggest blessings of the whole story.

My nurse was named Cameron, and I automatically liked her. She was so sensitive to the situation and treated me and Jason both with empathy and genuine care. She answered all of my questions honestly and accurately, and I never felt like I was a bother to her.

If the first round of Cytotec went well, she was to administer the second dose around midnight. Well, because I had opted for a sleeping pill earlier, I completely slept through that second dose.

Jason, however, awoke just enough to hear what was going on, but remained on his cot while she worked. He did listen though. And here's the gist of what he heard Nurse Cameron say to me as I slept -

Now Sweetie, I know you've already had one dose of Cytotec earlier. And I know you've also had two ultrasounds also. But, because I'm the one giving you the drug this time, and because I know what this drug does, I'm just going to double-check everything once more for my own piece of mind.

[Here's where she put the Doppler on my stomach and listened for heartbeats.]

I can hear your heartbeat. [pause] And it sounds like that is in fact the only heartbeat I can find. I didn't expect to hear a fetal heartbeat. I just had to check anyway before I give you this drug. [she gives me the drug] Now call me if you need me or if the pain starts to get too bad...

Jason was very touched by that extra, special double-check from Nurse Cameron, and when he told me about it later, I was too. She could have come in my room, given me the meds and waltzed out without so much as a second thought. That was her job after all. Come in at midnight. Give me the drugs. But she didn't see her orders as a chance to do her job. She saw them as a matter of life and death.

There is always the chance God could come through with a last-minute miracle. But with two ultrasounds and Nurse Cameron's last-minute verification, I'll never have to second-guess what happened that night. God ended the life of our little boy. Not us. Not the nurses or the doctors. Not some evil killing drug.

God.

So thank you, Nurse Cameron, for knowing the difference between life and death, and making your rounds.

Naming our Baby

Dear Sweet Boy,

Sometime that evening, we decided to name you Benjamin. Your daddy and I have both always liked the name, but since it's one of the more popular names, we always put it aside. We prefer that our kids not be one of five other "Emilys" or "Jacobs" in their classroom at school.

But since you will never go to school, we can name you whatever we want.

And so we chose Benjamin.

And wondered what it would be like to meet you...

A Much-Needed Phone Call

In the midst of the waiting, Jason went home for a bit to get his glasses and let the dog out, so I checked my messages and found one from Jen - my college roommate, fellow dreamer, and one of my best friends.

All she really said was that she was wondering when I would be going to the hospital and that she loved me. But I could tell she was crying.

Just Monday, she and I spent a significant amount of time on the phone because she learned that one of her good (Christian) friends is getting divorced. And it tore her up. Even though we haven't lived in the same state in over ten years, we've had many of those types of conversations. When one of us hurts, the other truly hurts with her.

I cried with her when her sister-in-law miscarried several years ago. She cried with me when I miscarried the last time. We've mourned over everything from the divorces of family members and friends, to hurricanes, to deaths, to her husband's overseas deployments, to the fact that laundry is just never done.

And I knew that if I called her back, she would meet me right in the middle of my grief and stay there with me for as long as I wanted.

It was exactly what I needed.

I don't even really remember what we talked about during our thirty minute conversation that night. I just remember that we cried a lot, and we even laughed a lot and I hung up thinking that God is so good.

When we first met fifteen years ago, Jen and I both wrote each other off with quick, inaccurate judgments. She was a self-absorbed diva who loved the spotlight. I was a nerdy, judgmental snob who was too good for fun. But God shoved us together in extra curricular activities, classes, study groups and everything else and in a matter of days it seems, all of our stereotypes were washed away and the beginning of a life long friendship began.

Or, more accurately, I should say that we realized there was an element of truth to our first impressions after all, but loved each other anyway!

And I knew right then that it was for moments like these, when I was flat on my back in a hospital bed, hooked up to IVs, about to face life and death both at the same time, that God put our friendship in motion all those years ago.

I had great friends, a great family, a wonderful husband, and a God who loves me enough to comfort me personally.

Whatever the next few hours held, I knew I could get through them.

Checking In

I've been to the hospital to have babies enough times to know how it works. Once you check in, they put you on a diet of ice chips until everything is over with.

Which is why I ate a huge chicken fried steak at Luby's before we checked in this time.

I know my body enough to know that the chances for me to get sick are a whole lot better on an empty stomach than on a full. This day was going to be miserable enough already. I did not want starvation to add to the drama.

A nurse admitted me at the front desk and led me to my room in the labor and delivery wing. We walked past the room I was in when Gideon was born. Past the room I was in when Canaan was born. All the way to the very end of the hallway.

As far away from the nursery as possible.

I guess they didn't want me to be able to hear the other mothers going through real labor. Or the echos of newborn cries eager for their first middle-of-the-night feedings. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted, so I opted for apathetic and settled into my room for the night.

The room which, not coincidentally, I'm sure, did not have a baby warmer in it.

Dr. Nguyen explained that several things could happen over the next few hours. First, he would give me a very mild dose of Cytotec. It is a drug that causes the uterus to contract and expel whatever contents are inside.

And yes, it is the same drug used to administer abortions.

Because of my previous C-sections, he wanted to start me off on the smallest dose possible to avoid any undue stress on my uterus. We wouldn't want to add uterine rupture to the mix, now would we? If my body responded well to that, a second double-dose would be administered at midnight and another around 6 am.

He explained that I could respond well, deliver, and be done with it. I could respond partially and still end up needing a D&C afterward. Or problems could arise and I could end up needing another C-section.

Let me tell you, I did not like not knowing what was going to happen at all. Delivery. D&C. C-section. Each option worse than the last, and no way to know what would happen except to accept the drugs and wait...

I Will Carry You - Part 2

Dear Baby Boy,

I will never forget the past thirty minutes.

As soon as Nana came to get Gideon and Canaan, I jumped in the van with my keys, my phone, and my camera and drove to the park.

The last time I took pictures at the park, this is the kind of day I was having:

It was a gorgeous spring day and I took your brothers to the park to swing and play. Only, I couldn't sit still myself, and found myself swinging with them. The air was crisp. The sky was beautiful. And I remember feeling so much joy that I just had to take a photo mid-swing to remember how I felt with my head hung back and my feet stretched high as I swung up and down, up and down, looking up at the heavens and counting my blessings.

Today was a little different.

I went to the same swings, but seemed to do more rocking than actual swinging. All around me, kids were running and playing and moms were chasing and pushing and everyone else seemed to be having the kind of Park Day that I had the last time. And in the midst of it all, I played the song that Rhonda gave me earlier (I Will Carry You) and I cried as you and I swung slowly on the swings.

I wanted to go to the park today because it's something I always to for my boys. I take them swinging, and I push them and I tickle them each time the swing gets close, and I take their picture in the swing to remember how small and sweet they are because I know I'll forget some day... [Above: Gideon ~ 3 mos; Canaan ~ 3 mos]

And I'm not too happy about the fact that I'll never be able to push you in the swings like I did your brothers.

I know you're not really with me anymore. Your sweet little soul is already in Heaven and you've no doubt got swings and parks I can't even imagine. But for now, at least, your body is still with me.

So while I'll never get to give you a bath or help you learn to walk or tickle your tummy, I could at least swing with you before you go.

And like I always do, I took a picture so I wouldn't forget our afternoon at the park. Though I honestly don't think I'll forget it any time soon.

I Will Carry You - Part 1

Dear Sweet Boy,

I got an email from my friend, Rhonda, today. She sent me an iTunes song as a gift, and until I received it, I had no idea you could even buy someone a song and send it to them. What a unique idea.

But, what floored me even more was the song that she chose to send. It was I Will Carry You (Audrey's Song) by Selah. Rhonda said she'd heard it the week before and loved it, but did not know anyone it applied to. Suddenly, my situation came up, and she thought of the song again.

What she didn't know is that I've heard the song before. In fact, I came across Angie Smith's blog Bring the Rain the last time I miscarried, and spent hours reading the story of her sweet daughter, Audrey, who lived only a few hours after she was born. (Angie is Todd Smith's wife, who is a singer for Selah). The song is amazing, but her blog is gut-wrenching. Angie wrote a book (Also called I Will Carry You) chronicling her journey with little Audrey, and it just came out a few weeks ago. Ironically, I had it on my "books to buy" list, thinking I would read it and keep it to give away if I ever had a friend go through the loss of a child.

Then, yesterday happened.

And I thought about the book, but completely forgot about the song. But, God did not forget. He knew it would touch me, and He knew I needed to hear it again, and so He used Rhonda to remind me of it.

So as soon as Nana comes to get your brothers, we're listening to this song...

Untitled Hymn

Dear Little One,

As we left the hospital, Untitled Hymn was playing on the radio. I've always loved this song because it just shows how we need Jesus in every single stage and circumstance of our lives. But for some reason, I'd always thought the song ended with, "With your final breath, kiss the world goodbye..." Today as I heard it, I realized that it actually says, "with your final heartbeat..." It made me love the song even more.

Because you never had breath.

But you had a heartbeat.

And I'll never know when you had your final heartbeat. But God knows. And no doubt you know too. Because at that moment, you really did begin to live.

Untitled Hymn
Artist: Chris Rice
Album: Run The Earth... Watch The sky

Weak and wounded sinner,
Lost and left to die,
O, raise your head for Love is passing by

Come to Jesus,
Come to Jesus,
Come to Jesus and live

Now your burden's lifted,
And carried far away,
And precious blood has washed away the stain... so

Sing to Jesus ,
Sing to Jesus ,
Sing to Jesus and live

And like a newborn baby,
Don't be afraid to crawl,
And remember when you walk sometimes we fall... so

Fall on Jesus,
Fall on Jesus,
Fall on Jesus and live

Sometimes the way is lonely,
And steep and filled with pain,
So if your sky is dark and pours the rain... then

Cry to Jesus,
Cry to Jesus,
Cry to Jesus and live

O, and when the love spills over,
And music fills the night,
And when you can't contain you joy inside... then

Dance for Jesus,
Dance for Jesus,
Dance for Jesus and live

And with your final heartbeat,
Kiss the world goodbye,
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory's side... and

Fly to Jesus,
Fly to Jesus,
Fly to Jesus and live

Fly to Jesus,
Fly to Jesus,
Fly to Jesus and live

The Appointment - Part 2

Dear Little One,

Obviously, the initial news of losing you was a complete shock. It knocked the wind right out of us, and right now it feels like our breath will never come back. But I need to be honest about what I was thinking in those few moments (read: eternity) that we stared at your unmoving image on the ultrasound screen.

If one could have read my mind, no doubt they would have labeled me a bit bipolar, because it went something like this:

No. No. Not again. This cannot be happening again. I am NOT losing another child.

God, I trust You.

I don't understand. This has to be a mistake.

I know Your ways are higher than my ways.

What about 10/10/10? God, we had a deal. I know You were listening. What happened? Were You just smirking during all of my prayers? Was the peace I felt just hogwash?

I know Your thoughts are not my thoughts. I know You. I trust You.

I don't understand. Why would I have to go through the entire first trimester only for nothing? It's not fair!

You have a reason for everything. You will bring good from this just like You have brought good from every other tragedy in my life. You love me. You know what You're doing.

What in the world are we going to tell Gideon? He is too young to be touched by death, and now, at 3 1/2 years old, he's already having a piece of his innocence stolen from him. It's not right.

We'll tell him that Your ways are best. That even when life is sad, we can trust You because You love us so much. That Your sovereignty is greater than Your mystery.

Please, let this be a mistake.

God, I trust you.

Let us wake up from this nightmare.

God, I trust you.

Why, God, why?

God I trust you.

But, why?

Trust.

Why?

Trust...

And on it went, while your heart remained firm in its decision not to beat, and the cold jelly seeped into my treacherous tummy. My womb was now a tomb, and I didn't like it one bit.

I tell you this because it explains my relationship with God. I don't understand Him all the time. I can't see the full picture of His plan. But I still love Him anyway. But this love I have is not because I've read about Him in the Bible. It's not because I know about God and Jesus and the Cross and Grace.

This kind of love doesn't come from reading Bible verses. It comes from my relationship with my Abba Father. I don't know about God. I know Him personally. And while I've never seen His face or been held in His arms, like I'm sure you have, Sweet Baby, I've still felt His love for over 25 years. And that's why I can trust in the midst of such tragedy.

Am I mad at God for taking you from me?

Honestly... No.

I remember when I was ten and my mom died, I thought the natural thing for me to do was to hate God. But I didn't. And I remember being so confused because I'd always heard of people losing someone to death and "hating God" for it. I thought that if I didn't hate God, maybe that meant I didn't love my mom as much as I should have.

I know now that's not the case.

God is God and I am not. He doesn't have to answer to me or explain Himself to me or ask my permission for anything. But because He is the very personification of LOVE, I can trust Him and love Him back even when I don't understand His ways.

After Dr. Nguyen turned off the machine and talked to us a few minutes, he gave us some time alone, and your Daddy and I just cried together. We talked about how we could both tell you were a boy, and I told him, "I was just so sure God was going to give us our 'perfect baby.' I was just so sure..."

And your daddy, who loves God just like I do and trusts Him even more, put it all into perspective. "Emily, He did," he said. "He did give us our perfect baby. Just think about it. He'll never get into trouble. He'll never disobey. He'll never have any regrets... He's already in Heaven, so in some ways he's already the most perfect of them all."

And I could see right away that he was right. God DID answer my prayer for a "perfect baby." Just not in the way I expected.

"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord" (Job 1:21).

The Appointment

Dear Little One,

It started out as a very normal day. I dropped your brothers off at Grandma's house and then worked through lunch so I'd be able to leave at 1 for my 16-week checkup at Dr. Nguyen's office.

Your Daddy called me a few times that morning because he did not know if he would be able to come with me to the appointment or not. His friend, Bruce Brown, is in the hospital with a brain tumor and I believe they are going to operate soon. Daddy really wanted to visit him, but it looked like the only time he could go would be the same time as my appointment. I told him he should definitely go see Bruce. I wanted him to go see him; it was important. Besides, the appointment wasn't going to be a big deal. It was just a routine checkup to listen to your heartbeat, check my weight, and send me on my merry way.

Well, your Daddy has never missed a prenatal appointment yet, so he wasn't so sure about starting now. He said, "Are you sure it's going to be routine? You haven't had any problems that you haven't told me about, have you?" I assured him all was completely fine, there were absolutely no signs of any trouble, and the only thing I wanted to talk to the doctor about was getting a prescription for my nausea that for some reason hasn't subsided yet. He finally agreed and we left it at that.

Five minutes before I was going to leave, Daddy called me back and said it turns out, now wasn't a good time for Bruce to have visitors, so he'd go ahead and pick me up for my appointment.

God obviously had a HUGE, BIG, DIVINE hand in that one.

When Dr. Nguyen put the Dopplar to my tummy to listen for your heart, he just moved it around for a few seconds before suggesting we go to the ultrasound room. Your Daddy and I smiled at each other. We were going to get a sneak peak at you, just like we did last month, only this time we were hoping we'd be able to tell if you were a girl or boy. We were excited that we might get to know a few weeks earlier than expected.

We laughed and joked with Dr. Nguyen as we went to the room. All was happy and light and fun and no one was the wiser.

Then... your image appeared on screen.

And I knew.

You weren't moving. Baby, why aren't you moving? Mommy wants you to move!

And even though I knew, I still asked, "Is it moving?!"

Silence.

Dr. Nguyen pushed and poked and moved the magic little wand all over my belly, but you still never moved. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he put his hand on my knee and said, "Emily, I am so sorry, but I'm not finding a heartbeat."

And even though I knew, I cried when I heard him say it.

You were gone.

Second Trimester

Dear Little One,

We need to talk. It's officially the second trimester, and in case you haven't heard, the morning sickness is supposed to stop by now! :-) Mine has always gone from week 7 to week 14, but this time around we're in to week 15 and it seems to be getting worse. I have another doctor appointment next week, so I might just have to break down and finally ask for some anti-nausea medicine. Of course, I know that it is all worth it in the end, and being sick is just a small price to pay for the huge, huge blessing of being your mommy, but still...

You know, I was thinking. Both of your brothers have such distinct and different personalities, I cannot wait to see what yours will be! It is so amazing how God has created billions of people and each one is still unique. You'd think He'd run out of ideas by now! But He doesn't. Instead He molds us and shapes us stitch by stitch and trait by trait, and never duplicates His work.

I'd love to write more right now, but your brother, Canaan, is playing cars along my arms, so it makes for difficult typing! But know that I'm thinking about you all the time! We still have a ways to go, but already you're a part of our family and all of us just can't wait to meet you and have you here with us!

Love, Mommy

Anticipation

Dear Little One,

Yes, it's official. You're on your way! We're excited, of course, and I'm thrilled that we'll have a fall baby! It's my favorite season of the year, and October is my favorite month! Your official due date is Oct. 16 (the same as your cousin, Shelby's birthday), but since I'll have to schedule a C-section earlier, I'm praying that you'll be born on Oct. 10. I think it would be so neat to have you on 10/10/10, and I just know it's going to be a special added blessing. Someday when you're a teenager and right in the throws of teenage angst, I'll be able to tell you that you're a perfect 10 because you were created exactly the way God wanted you to be, and you even have your birthday as proof!

Your older brother, Gideon, is very excited to have another baby in the house! Canaan is still too young to understand the concept of becoming a big brother, but I know that with the two of them around, you are going to be so loved!

Naturally, I'm a bit apprehensive about having three children in just a few short months! Your daddy and I will be outnumbered! But I know it will be an adjustment that will turn into the new normal in just a matter of moments.

I can't wait to see who you are and who God is creating you to be! Most people automatically assume that, since we have two boys already, I'm wanting a girl this time. But I can honestly say, I don't have a preference. I love being a mommy to my boys, so it's a role I already know I love. But if you end up being a girl, I'm sure it will take me about half a second to love that as well!

For right now though, I'm not loving the morning sickness at all. So if we could speed that up a bit, that would be great!

I love you already and I'm counting the moments until we meet!

Love,
Mommy

Knitting

Dear Little One,

Well, it's been less than a week since we learned that you're on your way, and I can't begin to tell you how excited we are! Right now, only me and your Daddy know about you, so you're our sweet little secret and we love it! We've already thanked God repeatedly for blessing us yet again with another precious child, and already we're counting down the days until we get to meet you.

I first took a pregnancy test last Thursday on 2/4, and it was so faint, you had to squint your eyes to see the positive sign. But, I knew it was there. Even a shadow of a line means there's a line, so it might be extremely early, but it was still positive! Of course I took two tests just to be sure. I wrote your Daddy a little note in a notebook for him and put it on his counter in the bathroom while he was taking a shower. It ended by asking him what he was doing in October!

Right when he read it, he came out of the bathroom wrapped in just a towel because he was so surprised. He did not expect us to know anything so soon. Needless to say, it made his day, and he was extremely happy.

We celebrated that night by going out to eat for Mexican food at La Brista (?), but we didn't tell Gideon and Canaan why we were there. They just thought it was another night out.

I took another test on Saturday, just to make sure the line was getting more defined, and it is. So, I'm happy about that. And I plan on taking another one tomorrow too! (Thankfully, I have found that you can buy pregnancy tests at the Dollar Store, so it's not so bad taking multiple tests.)

We may tell Nana and Papa and Grandma and Granddad this Sunday because it's Valentine's Day, but we're not sure yet. I kind of like keeping you a secret for now because Heaven knows we'll have to share you soon enough!

For now, know that you are loved already. We praise God for knitting you together as we speak, and cannot wait to hold you and see your sweet face.

I love you,
Mommy