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...