Milestones

It's been awhile since I've been here.  A close friend commented that I must be doing well, since I haven't written much lately.  I've been busy, enjoying summer with my family, but I don't know about doing well.  I try to be strong, but I am hurting.  Maybe I will always hurt.  If you ask me how I'm doing, I'll probably say "OK," but I hurt.  The busyness of summer has kind of caused me to set my feelings aside, so not dealing with those emotions is catching up to me.

My husband is a teacher, so we've all been home together for summer vacation.  It has been a blast working on projects (my husband built me a pond!), spending quality time together with family, and having time to do things we wouldn't normally be able to do.

I was so busy doing "summer" that I missed Jonah's half-birthday.  (I come from a small family, so we celebrate half-birthdays!)  I was aware that it was coming up a few weeks before, but I forgot about it until the day after because I didn't have it on my calendar.  This brought up conflicting emotions for me.  On the one hand, I felt like a terrible mother-- how could I forget my son's half-birthday!?!?  On the other hand, I was grateful that I didn't think of it ahead of time, because the anticipation of milestones is the worst part for me.

Take Mother's Day, for example.  For weeks I dreaded it, thinking about how difficult it was going to be for me.  I would get a stomach ache just thinking about the upcoming holiday.  But when Mother's Day actually came, I was fine!  A little sad, but not devastated.  I knew that I needed to take care of myself that day by keeping busy, and I survived it.

So the day after Jonah's half-birthday, my husband, daughter, and I took a picnic to the cemetery.  My daughter is collecting Minions toys from Happy Meals right now.  She got a duplicate that day in our McDonald's picnic.  She wanted to leave it there at the cemetery for Jonah as a half-birthday present.  What a sweet big sister!

So maybe it was a blessing in disguise that I remembered Jonah's half-birthday a day late.  I didn't have the sick feeling in my stomach because of the anticipation, and our family still got to celebrate together with a picnic at the cemetery.

We miss you, Jonah, and think about you everyday!

Where I Am Today

I am pleased to contribute to a blog hop for grieving parents who write.  When you're finished reading, hop on back to She Brings Joy.

It has been five months since we said hello and goodbye to Jonah.  I realize this makes me a baby in my grief, and I have so far to go.  Will I ever be whole again, when a piece of my heart is missing?

At this point in my journey, I can honestly say there are more good days than bad days.  I might have one or two bad days in a week.  Sometimes I just need to cry.  Sometimes I have an imminent urge to visit the cemetery.  Sometimes I want to curl up in my bed and sleep all day, but that doesn't happen because I have my daughter to care for!

Like I mentioned in my previous blog post, I feel like I am in the process of becoming a different person than I once was.  Grieving is messy, and I'm not yet sure who I will be on the other side of this journey. It's hard to put into words exactly where I am and how things are changing, but I will try.

Life is scary and fragile.

Losing my son has made me realize that our time here is not guaranteed.  Sometimes I panic when I'm driving in the car, thinking life could end at any second with an accident.  I fear for my husband driving to work for the same reason.  I worry about leaving my daughter at preschool, thinking something could happen and we'd never see each other again.  Times when our family is apart cause me anxiety, and I feel most comfortable when we are all at home together.

My body is frustrating.

I know I should celebrate the fact that my body gave life to two children.  But it's not the same as it once was.  I am still wearing maternity pants.  My c-section scar causes pain when I wear jeans or any stiff fabric, so my clothing options are limited at this point.  The most frustrating thing is that I still can't run because of the pain from my incision.  I am a runner.  I long to be training for a half marathon.  Waiting is frustrating and walking isn't the same.

Priorities change.

Things that were once important seem trivial.  The most important thing now is spending time with loved ones, because we don't know how much time we have on earth.  I used to love my job as a teacher, but at this season in my life, is it much more important to be home with my daughter.  Now I question whether I should return to teaching or look for a different job that would allow me more time with my family.

Relationships change.

You discover you have a lot more "fair weather friends" than you thought.  Perhaps the people close to you can't handle your pain or don't know what to say.  Whatever the reason, friends aren't there like they used to be.  I have been blessed to meet some new friends after my loss; some from a mom's club and some from a grief support group.  I never would have met some wonderful people had I not lost my son.  Finally, while many marriages end in divorce when parents lose a child, I am extremely thankful to say that my relationship with my husband has only been strengthened because of our loss.

Faith grows.

I never imagined I could be so strong.  People who hear our story marvel at our courage.  But none of this was accomplished in my own strength.  I was able to make it through the greatest trial of my life only by relying on God.  When I put my trust in God and was willing to obey, He carried me through the valley of the shadow of death.  He was with us when our son was born, and He continued to fill us with an otherworldly peace throughout our hospital stay.  Seeing God carry us through something so big has made it easier to trust him in all things.  If God was with us then, he can certainly walk with us through anything that comes our way.

I think about Jonah each day, wondering what he would be like now.  I wonder what it's like in heaven where he is.  I wonder how much longer I will have to wait to be with him.  I know that I have a long way to go in my grief.  While I just want the pain and the hard parts to be over with, I know this journey is turning me into the person God made me to be.

Me in my happy place, the canal where I go running.  Here I was walking a virtual 5K for Memorial Day.

Suffering

Going through this journey of losing Jonah, I have experienced more than my fair share of suffering.  The shock of being told that my child would not live.  Carrying him for 3.5 months while enduring the overwhelming weight of a fatal diagnosis.  Watching him die in my arms, minutes after he was born.  Burying my child and living with his loss.  Facing the reality that my family is forever altered because Jonah is missing.  It wasn't supposed to be this way!

It has been close to five months since our son passed away.  I am just starting to feel somewhat like my old self, but I know I will never be the same person I once was.  It feels like the person I was before has been ripped apart, and is now being reassembled and repurposed into someone new.  I know that God is remaking me through this experience, and I don't yet know who I will be at the end of this journey.  But I trust that he has a purpose for me, and that he will use my suffering for good.

In his kindness God called you to his eternal glory by means of Jesus Christ.  After you have suffered a little while, he will restore, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation.  (1 Peter 5:10 NLT)

Through our journey, my husband and I knew that we were called to use our son's life as a testimony to our faith in Christ.  Even while I was still pregnant with Jonah, we knew that we were called to share our story.  As debilitating as the pain was at times, we were comforted by our faith and hope in our Savior.  We knew that later on, we would have to share our story so that we, in turn, could be an encouragement to others.  We all will endure suffering in this world, and I hope that you will never have to go through losing a child like we did.  But when your time of suffering does come, turn to God as a source of comfort.  His peace will carry you through. 

All praise to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.  He is the source of every mercy and the God who comforts us.  He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When others  are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.  You can be sure that the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ.  So when we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your benefit and salvation!  For when God comforts us, it is  so that we, in turn, can be an encouragement to you.  Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer.  We are confident that as you share in suffering, you will also share God's comfort.  (2 Corinthians 1:3-7 NLT)

I recently came across this passage during a Bible study group with my friends.  Though the context is about the persecution of early Christians, it still applies today as we all experience suffering.  Though I am not one for speaking publicly, I do enjoy writing and this blog is the result of that.  I hope that my writing will be a comfort and source of encouragement to others.  I pray that God will give you comfort and turn your suffering into something good and beautiful.

And may you fight for redemption of your pain so that you can say, "God has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering." (Genesis 41:52 NLT)

My Child is a Gift

Recently I joined a Facebook group for other mamas who have carried to term with a fatal diagnosis.  After sharing my story and my blog, I was honored to be invited to participate in a "Blog Hop" for bereaved parents.  I hope that reading our stories will bring healing to our readers.  Writing brings healing to me, as does sharing my journey with others who have walked this path.  Thank you for reading my son's story and visiting my blog!

When you're finished reading my post, return to the blog hop over at She Brings Joy.

Being a child-loss mother comes with a roller-coaster of emotions.  Elation and happiness, shock and disbelief, anger and fear, pain and mourning.  Sometimes the emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

I was on a high mountain top upon finding out I was pregnant, elated with adding another child to our family.  My husband and I dreamed of the way our future would be, excited that our daughter, Alice, would be a big sister.  Those first few months of pregnancy, we were blissfully unaware of how our lives were about to change forever.

On October 1, 2014, my husband and I went in for a routine ultrasound at 21 weeks of pregnancy.  Immediately the technician could tell something was wrong.  Our baby had extremely low levels of amniotic fluid and polycystic kidneys.  A follow-up appointment confirmed a fatal diagnosis of Potter's Syndrome.

We were in shock.  We were angry.  Why would God put it in our hearts to have a child that was going to be ripped away from us?

Though things did not turn out the way we wanted, we have come to see our son Jonah's life as a gift.

My child is a gift, not a choice.
When we received Jonah's diagnosis, some doctors encouraged us to terminate the pregnancy.  They tried to scare me, saying that carrying this baby was a serious threat to my health.  (I never had any health problems.)  They said, your child is so abnormal, why carry him when there is no chance of survival?  (My child is loved and wanted, even if he doesn't survive.)  They said, you need to end this now so you can start to "get over it" and get on with your life.  (I will never be able to get over it.)

My husband and I chose to carry our son because he was a gift from God.  He was wanted and loved.  From the moment he was conceived, Jonah was a person.  Even though his kidneys and lungs didn't from properly, we could still hear his heart beating each and every time we went to the doctor's office.  As long as his heart was beating, I would carry him.  Ending his life was never a choice we had the right to make; we left it to God to decide.

My child is a gift, not a burden.
Because of the low amniotic fluid, I could feel every little kick and movement starting around 14 weeks of pregnancy.  Feeling the life growing inside of me was such a gift at first.  But after the diagnosis, it was bittersweet.  While I appreciated the sweet moments of feeling my son alive and well, each movement reminded me that he would not be staying with us.

During the last month of my pregnancy, I felt burdened.  It was very uncomfortable carrying Jonah, because there was no amniotic fluid to act as a cushion between him and me.  The grief was constantly hanging over us.  The fear and dread would not go away; knowing that we would never bring Jonah home from the hospital, and planning a funeral instead of a baby shower.  But we were committed to honoring God by carrying Jonah, and no amount of discomfort could change my mind.  We were blessed to deliver Jonah a few weeks early when I went into labor.  The burdensome time was over.  But looking back now, feeling his life within me was a gift.

My child is a gift to others.
Because of Jonah's life, others have been blessed.  I have been a Christian for as long as I can remember, but it has always been hard for me to share my faith with others.  Because of Jonah, the doors are open wide to share my faith and what God has done in our lives.  Throughout this journey, my husband and I have been committed to standing firm in our faith and being a witness to others.  (Watch him share our story with our church family here.)

When Jonah passed away, we set up a memorial fund at our daughter's preschool.  With the money that was donated, a kind and talented community member built a playhouse for the children at the preschool.  (Read more about Jonah's Schoolhouse here.)  This awesome structure is a gift to the children of our community, and it reminds me of my son each time I see it.

My child is a treasure in heaven.
I recall a time toward the very end of my pregnancy, when I spoke with another mother who had lost her infant son.  She said to me, having a child in heaven is a treasure.  At the time, I thought that sounded crazy.  How could all of this suffering and saying goodbye to my child possibly be a treasure?!  But now, after some time has passed, I can understand how she was right.

Matthew 6:19-21 (NLT) reads, "Don't store up treasures here on earth, where they can be eaten by moths and get rusty, and where thieves break in and steal.  Store your treasures in heaven, where they will never become moth-eaten or rusty and where they will be safe from thieves.  Wherever your treasure is, there your heart and thoughts will be also."

Philippians 3:20-21 (NLT) reads, "But we are citizens of heaven, where the Lord Jesus Christ lives.  And we are eagerly waiting for him to return as our Savior.  He will take these weak mortal bodies of ours and change them into glorious bodies like his own, using the same mighty power that he will use to conquer everything, everywhere."  

I am confident that my son is in heaven.  He will never get sick or experience heartbreak.  He will never be subjected to the conditions of this imperfect, fallen world.  Instead, his body is now perfect, and he is enjoying eternal fellowship with God.  Because God gave me the gift of my son, my heart and thoughts are now fixed on the eternal, and I have a greater awareness that this world is not my home.  Though I have suffered here and will always miss Jonah, I know that I await an eternity with him in heaven.  What a treasure!

Scars

When I was pregnant with Jonah, I kind of had the option to choose a c-section delivery because of our circumstances.  Knowing how difficult it was to deliver Alice, I didn't think I could go through the emotional trauma of delivering Jonah the same way, knowing that he wouldn't live.  There was also a good chance that Jonah wouldn't survive a vaginal delivery, and would be stillborn.  We really wanted to meet our son alive, if only for a few moments, and a c-section delivery would give us the best chance of meeting him alive.  It turned out that Jonah was breech and it was medically necessary to deliver that way.

Even knowing that it would be a difficult recovery, I wanted a c-section because I wanted the scar.  I wanted proof that my son existed in the form of a scar on my body.

I have been listening to a lot of Mandisa albums lately while I walk on the canal.  (Her music is my favorite right now!)  She has a song called "What Scars Are For" on her "Overcomer" album from 2013.  This song really speaks to me because of what I have been through with Jonah.  The physical scar is a reminder of God's faithfulness in bringing me through a time of trial.

"What Scars Are For"
These scars aren't pretty, but they're a part of me
And will not ever fade away
These marks tell a story of me down in the valley
And how You reached in with Your grace
And healed me

They remind me of Your faithfulness and all You brought me through
They teach me that my brokenness is something You can use
They show me where I've been and that I'm not there anymore
That's what scars, that's what scars are for

Erase, rewind, wish I could every time
The hurt, the pain cuts so deep
But when I'm weak, You're strong, and in Your power I can carry on
And my scars say that You won't ever leave

They remind me of Your faithfulness and all You brought me through
They teach me that my brokenness is something You can use
They show me where I've been and that I'm not there anymore
That's what scars, that's what scars are for

I see it on the cross
The nails You took for me
Scars can change the world
Scars can set me free

They remind me of Your faithfulness and all You brought me through
They teach me that my brokenness is something You can use
They show me where I've been and that I'm not there anymore
That's what scars, that's what scars are for

Mother's Day 2015

The week leading up to Mother's Day, I was dreading it.  I thought, for sure, it would be a super emotional day for me filled with sadness, thinking about not having Jonah with me.  While I definitely missed my son, I did have an enjoyable day, and I didn't cry at all!  I knew that I needed to take care of myself in order to have a good day.  I know there were people praying for me, helping me to get through my first Mother's Day post-Jonah, and I felt it.  Those prayers gave me strength!

I started my day by walking a virtual 5K race.  (What is a virtual race, you ask?  It's a race you sign up for online, and during the designated time period, you can run or walk your race anytime, anywhere.)  Being a runner, spending time on the canal bank has always been therapeutic for me.  It's a time to be alone with my thoughts and relieve stress.  I knew that I would need time on the canal bank on Mother's Day!  While I can't run yet (I'm still healing from my c-section), I CAN walk!  And this was the first time I had walked 3.1 miles since Jonah's birth.

The best part of my day was at the end of my "race."  Adam and Alice came out to the canal to meet me at the end.  They were holding up a purple streamer as a "finish line" for me to run through.  Adam awarded me my race medal.  Alice showed up in her lobster pajamas!

Alice and Adam gave me cards and a gift.  It was so special having my favorite people cheering for me!

Later on, Adam and I went to the movies together.  I knew I needed to keep busy today to minimize crying time!  Here's a picture of our family when we picked up Alice.

I made a little Mother's Day collage of my babies.  Alice looks like me, and Jonah looks like Adam.  So thankful that these precious little ones made me a mother!

Jonah's Schoolhouse

Introducing Jonah's Schoolhouse!!!  Isn't it adorable?!

Before our son passed away, we set up a memorial fund at Hilmar Christian Children's Center.  We wanted any memorial donations to benefit the children at our daughter's preschool.  Thanks to generous donations from family, friends, and community members, enough money was raised to build this playhouse.

Ms. Lynn, the director of the preschool, asked Ken Van Foeken to create a playhouse for the children to use at the preschool.  Since my husband and I are both teachers, the schoolhouse idea was born.  Grandpas Art and Dan even got to help out with construction, roofing, and Grandma Laurie helped with painting.  Ken's wife, Susie, even created the flower arrangements for the windows.

Inside the schoolhouse there is a large chalk board, teacher's desk, and mini chalk boards for the students.  So creative and fun!

The schoolhouse is complete with a school bell on top of the roof, that the children can ring.

Here is it, installed at the preschool!  It was a team effort and a work of love, spearheaded by Mr. Van Foeken.  Each time Alice goes to preschool, she gets to play in her brother's schoolhouse.  Each time I drive by and see it on the playground, I smile as I think of my son. I am truly thankful to everyone who helped out and made this project come to life.  The children at the preschool will enjoy it for years to come!