Choices

Today is the International Babylost Mother's Day and I knew I would probably write something... I never know quite how my posts here will be received but this one is one that I have thought about for some time- and I have felt little nudges here and there to write about it- so I prayed about it and I am hoping that in some way you will open your heart to the story that I am going to share. Sit with it. You may not agree with my words but please read them.

When I was pregnant with my last child, the doctors and nurses would ask questions for filling out my chart. I would explain that I had been pregnant 5 times, had two losses and that the baby I was carrying would be (God-willing) my fourth living child (he was). These numbers could get confusing, so I would go into greater detail about Andrew being stillborn at 39 weeks, and losing E in my first trimester and having a D & C. On one occasion, the doctor was trying to get it straight and said to me, "So you had a twin pregnancy with one stillborn which equaled one living child, then two more living children, one abortion and then this pregnancy."

"Um what?? Abortion??"

I didn't realize that that was indeed the procedure that I had. It didn't matter that my baby was technically gone on my medical chart is says: Pregnancies: 5. Abortions: 1.

Lately I have seen and heard a lot of messages about abortion and pro-life. One of my favorite quotes (By Dr. Seuss) is "A person's a person no matter how small." I have never referred to my children as embryos or fetuses. If you have been reading for a while you know how I have a strong relationship with God, I am a Christian and yet sometimes the actions of other Christians make me sigh and make me want to run and hide.

I have seen bumper stickers that say when the heart starts beating, I have heard of the horrific things that happen during an abortion. I wonder what purpose those things serve. I wonder if they have changed the minds of someone with a healthy pregnancy facing such choices- and still it all makes me cringe when I see it- and it's usually because of her.

There are many people in this world who have changed me- sometimes it is just a story that sticks with me- one that I can't shake- and every time I hear someone say the word abortion I do not think of that doctor who wrote it on my chart- I think of her.

She had a stillborn just like me. It was her first pregnancy after years of infertility. He died while she was in labor and she knew it but she labored still- he was a large baby- nearly 10 pounds- and she labored still. She labored for many hours and at last held her son. A son she had dreamed about. She held his lifeless body on his birthday, Christmas Day and said goodbye. She and her husband went home alone.

She was older and wanted so much to be a mother that they tried again and after some time finally got pregnant. This was it! It was finally her turn! And then she went to that 20 week ultrasound- the one where 'normal' parents go to see cute pictures of their babies- learn the gender. She went to that 20 week ultrasound where people like us hold our breath wondering what horrible news could possibly await us.

For most of us- bad news does not happen twice and I do want to stress that so many of my friends who have had a loss have gone on to have healthy full-term babies (myself included 3x over)- but that was not to be her story. She learned at that 20 week ultrasound that again she would labor and deliver a dead baby. For the ultrasound showed that something had gone terribly wrong in her child's development. His brain did not develop. It was not there. In short he had no brain.

And after the shock she was faced with a decision- she could continue the pregnancy (as I know some moms have) or she could end it. After as many days as she possibly wait, she chose the latter. She cried when she spoke of it. She cried that she had to make that decision but she said she couldn't do it again. She could not labor again and deliver a dead baby. Not again. Her body could perhaps survive it- but her heart (broken again) could clearly not and as I write this I wonder how she is surviving today...

Looking at her, I felt so much sadness. I couldn't imagine having to make such a choice- and if faced with it and in her shoes I don't know what I would do. She was grieving so much and I could feel the weight in the room and felt helpless to lift it from her shoulders. All I could think was that they were ok. They were whole now- that she would see them again.

Her shoulders slumped as she spoke of her church. The church that had turned their back on her. For she had had an abortion. And though she needed their comfort they could not give it to her. While she hated that she had to make that decision, she stood by it still- for no one knew her pain- I clearly didn't and I was not about to judge her for it. I will not judge her still.

And that is why when I drive behind those bumper stickers and open those emails about life I get a lump in my throat and it is hard to swallow. I haven't talked to her in years but I wonder what she thinks when she sees them- if somehow it brings it all back- though then again it is something that never does leave us... our children.

So please- the next time you forward something on or think about slapping a bumper sticker on your car think about her- and others who have made that choice with a heavy heart- with a heart that wanted a baby more than anything-

The problem is until you've walked in her shoes... you won't know. So please don't judge. Just be. Be supportive. Be kind. Be loving. For that is how you share God. Embrace those who are hurting and listen- for their story just may teach you something. Perhaps we as Christians should not judge but offer support and love and offer another way- For even that word "Abortion"- that was something that brought her so much pain- from the loss of a baby who was already gone, to the loss of a church community that was so supportive during her first loss and to the loss possibly of faith...

This world used to be so black and white for me... and as each year passes it becomes a little more gray. I try to make sense of it and sometimes the pieces just don't fit together- at least not as neatly as they did in my youth- before I knew. Before I knew her.

Thinking of you who made that choice with a heavy heart- and those who went and delivered still. There is no easy choice- but you are all mother's and I remember you on this- your own Mother's Day. Thank you for sharing your stories with me- with others- for they change us- make us pause- change us hopefully for the better.

Saved.

2003 was the hardest year of my life but it was also the year that I fell in love... but not with who you think.

I knew God and thought of myself as a 'good girl'. I was thoughtful and kind, prayed often and lived my life in a way that I thought would be pleasing to Him. I was 'faithful' in every sense of the word.

And then I met Andrew.

Andrew changed things. Oddly enough I never doubted God's existence. I couldn't. I have said before that the moment that Andrew's beautiful body was pulled from mine I knew God. Felt His peace and His presence in a way I had never experienced. I knew He was there and in that moment I felt... well... blessed.

But that serene moment ended probably around the time my medicine did- and I realized the magnitude of what had just happened. If you have a child, I want you to remember that moment where you first looked into your child's eyes and fell in love... now imagine looking into eyes that would not open. And handing back that child you'd waited nine long months to meet. It is an indescribable pain. I no longer felt blessed, I felt betrayed.

To say that I was angry with God would have been an understatement. I spoke to Him in ways I am ashamed to admit and when "Christians" would offer me some sort of "God loves you" message I would nod and then go home and roll my eyes at them- knowing that He saw my every mood. You see, I knew that He had the power to save my little boy... and He didn't. I believed in Him and that is what made me angry!

But I never doubted His existence. I went from thanking him for Joe to cursing him for Andrew and walking around in a fog where light could not reach- and I wasn't going to let it. Don't tell me about God! I talk to Him every day! I don't need your 'feel good' message right now! I know the 'real' God!

But here is the thing... somewhere during that time- of me rolling my eyes- wondering how God could make such a mistake... something happened. My tone started to mellow. My shoulders started to slump and I got tired. I was tired of blaming Him. And that day when I was on the floor with Andrew's ashes in my hand. I was tired. Tired of being angry and all that was left was a sadness. I had no strength left in me. I was tired.

No one knew what it was like to lose your son...

But wait...

He did.

His son was better than me. He was thoughtful and kind and lived His life in a way that was pleasing to His Father. He was faithful in every sense of the word. His Father must have looked into His son's eyes and fell in love. And He could have saved Him... but He didn't. He let Him suffer and die. Suffer. Why? For me. For this moment. So I could be picked up off the floor and live again. If I chose to.

He knew what it was like to lose your son and for the second time that year I felt him come over me and I felt His pain and mine. I felt Him hurt, for me. I felt His sorrow and His pain. And I was so sorry.

He was the only one who truly knew what I felt when I lost my son. He knew those emotions for which there are no words. He was the only one who knew my every thought- my every moment. He saw me on the floor. Screaming into my pillow. Hiding in the fog. He saw it all... and yet He never left me. And it was in that moment that I truly fell in love. For more than anyone in this world He knew me. He knew my sin-filled heart and He loved me still. He knew my anger and despair. And he stayed.

Yes. He could have saved Him... but what happened was, He saved me.

For love for God is more than going to church and singing some songs. It is more than reading your bible and praying. Loving God is surrender. It is giving yourself to Him- good, bad, ugly and beautiful- and the best part is... He takes you as you are- and if you're not ready... He'll wait.

He waited for me.

And I can't wait to look into His eyes and thank Him for that. I close my eyes and I can almost see it as He takes my hands and leads me to the other eyes I have so longed to see. The ones that brought me to Him.

Blessed?

Indeed.

Saved?

Forever.

Christ is Risen.

He is Risen Indeed.

Happy Easter- May His love break through the fog!

And he was there...

For those of you who are new to my blog- new to my story- I have been traveling down this road for some time. Andrew was my first born (over 7 1/2 years ago) and since then my family has had many blessings and of course, heartache.

Recently we packed up our family and took a vacation to the mountains. It was a hectic time getting everyone ready~ packed. I told my children they could only pack books and/or toys that could fit in their backpack and we were off.

There is something about going on vacation that makes me think of them. The people in my life know my story- know my family- but out there... people see us- a family with four children close in age and they have no idea what our story is- who is missing.

Over the years I feel like I have found a good place. One where there is more blessings than sorrow- even though some days I need to search- more blessings than sorrow- especially when it comes to the two lives I long to meet again one day... but even in that place, I have moments.

On our drive down, I was thinking of Andrew- nothing specific- his name just has a way of fluttering in and out of my thoughts often throughout the day. I was thinking of him when my middle son pulled a book out of his pack and asked me to read it to him. I looked at the cover and it said, "We Were Gonna Have a Baby, But We Had an Angel Instead."

And he was there.

Our last stop before our final destination was my friend's home. Our lives crossed when I lost my Andrew, and not long after- she lost her Brooke. Seeing her again was so sweet.

And he was there.

Toward the end of the night our boys were performing a show for us in the basement full of dancing and fun. My son had two shirts on and was hot so took one off. I glanced at his shirt, "My twin is an angel."

And he was there.

Sometimes I feel like life is so busy that I don't take a moment to really sit and remember and thank God for what I do have- a son (and daughter) in heaven who one day I will meet again. Too busy- but then something will happen and I'll feel it.

He is there. And he reminds me. Not with sorrow but with pause. Slow down. Look at the blessings around you. Slow down or you could miss them. Especially when your world starts to turn again. The good news is that they're always there- when you're ready.

Blessings.

And reminders.

That he was there.

"Twin"

~Twins~

Oh that word that still at times can make me wince...

I remember when I first became pregnant and it was terrifying and exhilarating all in the same moment. What would we do... He'd just lost his job, we weren't planning for this... but we'd make it work... Twins? Really?

When the news spread that not only was I pregnant, but with 'twins', the number of babies I was carrying wasn't the only thing that doubled, so did the excitement. And while it felt good to get all that attention, I also- from that moment- decided that I didn't want those babies I was carrying to be identified by that word 'twin' and so if you knew me then, and you know me now you never heard me refer to that first pregnancy as a 'twin' pregnancy but when I carried my "babies"- and later- my "boys".

~Twins~

It took a while for the idea to settle- it was not what I had wanted. I had always imagined myself as a mother with one in her arms, looking into one set of eyes, having one steal my heart... How can you share that love? Split it? I suddenly began to add another to my dreams... and while I didn't know if they were boys, girls, perhaps one of each I did know that I would refer to them as 'the babies', celebrate their differences, raise them as individuals and not split my love but double it.

And so when the babies were born, the boys were born, I remember feeling guilty... I had always dreamed of one... imagined one... were my dreams what was meant to be? Did I somehow 'will' this... by avoiding that word? By taking so long to shape my dreams- add that extra baby?

No. Of course not. Absolutely not. I know that now, but the thought crossed my mind more than once and I do remember moments when I would have it out with God wondering, "Did you think I couldn't handle it? Because I could have! I would have! YOU were wrong!"

And though I didn't have 'twins' (I had babies), that dreaded word that I had avoided even in my 'perfect pregnancy' found me... driving behind a TWIN camry... shopping and seeing TWIN packs of items... The word was everywhere and so were they. When you lose a child, suddenly babies are EVERYWHERE. When you lose a child, suddenly pregnant people are EVERYWHERE. And when you lose a twin... suddenly they're EVERYWHERE too. And so was that damn word.

~Twins~

A word I never used, but I grieved it still. I grieved the very idea of it. An idea that I had to try out... imagine... believe... and now that idea was gone- and not just for me, but for him- that little boy whose eyes looked into mine for the first time. Eyes that found mine as I told him that that little boy he'd spent so long with was gone. His brother. The little boy who he'd played with and kicked- gone. That relationship that I had dreamed of... that could have been... gone.

And that is the danger of it. The unknown- for our dreams can play games with us~ make us think that what we don't have is always 'better'. I imagined what they would have been~ best friends~ but how could I know that? It was after all just my dream.

I was grieving that "Twin" when he contacted me. Told me. He had a twin. And he told me as gently as he could that that dream I had, wasn't his experience. They were brothers sure, but who's to say that that relationship was any deeper than it was with his other siblings. It wasn't.

I often think of those dreams we have. The ones for those babies we lost too soon. For mine are 7 and 2 now and try as I may, I cannot see them clearly. I do not know their laughter and while I feel them dance around me, I cannot make out their eyes. How can I possibly know what it would have been like... I can't.

But I can dream. And I allow myself that. But I have changed it somewhat~ changed it for my babies. Joe and Andrew would have loved each other. They would have played together and been best friends- the same way that Joe is best friends with his sister and his brothers... not because they were twins but because they were family. For to me, family is what we lost~ a piece of who we were- not a piece of who he was.

** And these thoughts came to me because of a recent video going around with two twins babbling... their own secret language. And if you are me~ the mom of a "twinless twin", or just someone grieving babies and this video hurt to see (as I know from hearing from many of you that it did), I want you to know that my twin had that too... a secret language with his younger (by 15 months) sister~ not because he was a 'twin' but because they were babies and close in age and that is what babies do. Be gentle on yourselves. A cute video yes, but a cosmic twin language it is not. Don't let that dream- that word- that idea- rule you (easier said than done).

Wishing you peace tonight.

New Blog Feature

Right now I have three blogs set up to Network Blogs because I know that some people who read my blogs don't 'follow' through blogger and this way it publishes directly to my facebook(even when I am not 'on facebook') and notifies all my facebook friends. I have decided to take that feature (the automatic publishing) off of my facebook account because I have so many blogs and it seems they fill up my page so quickly (network blogs will still be there and I love that so many of you 'follow'... if you don't you still can!).

Blogger has a new feature where if you'd like you can enter your email you will get a notification (via email) every time I publish a new blog. No need to check in (for those who don't follow) when there is nothing new~ unless you just feel like checking out my 'older' stuff.

Thanks for reading and commenting and following!

I'm publishing this now and seeing if it works... (I'm following my own blog... I even bought the book!) If interested you'll see the new feature on the top right of this blog.

Hugs-

L

E (?)

With every step I felt it... E. E. E. E. E.

I was out, enjoying my walk- the air was crisp- the sky was blue and all I could think about was E. And it was March. It is March.

September I laid on that bed, ready for surgery- a DNC- an abortion. Sure my baby was gone. I knew that. Not only was that heartbeat gone, so was my baby- but still I had hope that somehow this would help us know. Help me know. Why? Who?

There was A (Andrew), B (Jonasen), C (Ali Jane), D (Zach) and E (?). And we had seen that heartbeat. We saw it again... and again... and again... and still I knew something was wrong- but they say that when you see that heartbeat you're 'safe'.

I should have known better.

The heartbeat does not make you 'safe'. Twelve weeks does not make you 'safe'. Full term does not make you 'safe'. But still I held out hope.

And when that heartbeat was gone. That baby was gone. There was one thing I wanted and that was to know why? And because I know that such things rarely have an answer (and when they do ~cord~ it hardly made me feel better), what I really wanted to know was 'who'.

We were driving home after seeing that dark screen that once showed us E's heartbeat and my husband had to pull over. He couldn't drive. It was too much. It was all too much. It had happened again and he looked at me and he said, "We can't even give our baby a name. I don't know why it matters. But it does."

And days later as I lay on that bed- waiting for surgery, I prayed that my baby would have left enough that we would know the answer to our question... boy? girl? We would have our answer and we could give our baby a name.

I cried. I cried for it all. I cried that I wanted this answer so much~ that it meant so much to me. I needed a name. I needed a picture. For he was five about to turn six and I found it a comfort that they were together. They were together and though I had carried that baby -E- for only a few months, I could close my eyes and see their hands together. And that gave me peace. I could see those hands but I couldn't see whose hand he was holding.

I waited on that bed and was soon joined by familiar faces. Faces that have been with me on this journey since he put me on it. Nurses. They came. They cried. They held me. And they listened. They listened as I asked them to pray that somehow I would have the answers that I felt I needed.

And she said, "Laura. You know. You already know who that baby was- who that baby is. It's in there ~it's in you~ and if you don't see it now, you will. But you know. You do know."

There was so much blood. And after my surgery I could tell by the look on my doctor's face that she couldn't give me my answer. And she didn't. E. I would call the baby E. And that is who you were to me. ~E~ How I wish you had left me something...

But then it was March- the month you were to be born and I sat there with my arms on my stomach wishing it was swollen with your life- wishing that I could see that heartbeat once more. I had cried so much that first March. You were gone and so was she. I was getting ready for her funeral- cancer had taken her at such a young age. And I thought of you both two young lives gone- And all I wanted was some hope. Some life. I took a test, folded my hands on my stomach and thanked God that in that moment it could happen- That test showed it could happen- it could grow again. And it did. F (Sean Asher).

E~ you were sent for a reason- for a purpose- and I still wish that somehow I knew~ had the answers I sought- the answers that I seek still. But Sue was right. And I think I know.

I still can sometimes close my eyes and see your hands together, but I zoom out and see you walking (always walking away)- hand in hand with your brother. Your blond pigtails swaying in the golden sun.

Today he dances...

It is funny how a child that you hardly know can make you pause- evaluate things. Perhaps that has happened as you've read my words here. Perhaps my Andrew's life or sweet E have changed you in some way... made you look at the world a little different. Made you hug your children a little harder.

It is March and I am reminded of two Marches ago when I wrote of sweet Maddison a wonderful young girl who was taken to heaven after a courageous battle with cancer.

And this March heaven welcomed another child. Little Avery passed away this morning. I first heard Avery's name in late February and not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of him- of his family and prayed.

And while my heart aches for his parents and his young brothers- all his family and friends and those who knew him, I do know that today the little boy that has been confined to a bed, unable to move, is dancing. He's home. He's at peace. He's whole.

When I first lost Andrew, I felt I had failed as a mother. I was supposed to keep him safe, keep him here. I failed. I found myself analyzing everything I did, or what I didn't do and wondering, how could I not know... How could I have not felt it somewhere- in my soul- that he was gone? I wrestled with that for a long time, and while I do not know Avery's parents I imagine that they wish with all their hearts that they could turn back time and somehow change what happened that day in late February when their lives changed in ways they would have never imagined- in ways that they have yet to see...

But for me in those early years, I would go back and wonder and blame myself for not keeping him 'safe'.

But then what is 'safe'?

From the moment Andrew's silent body was pulled from mine, I knew he was 'safe'. I felt it stronger than I have felt anything in this world. In that moment, I knew who held him. I knew he was home with the one who knit him together inside me- with the one who loved him and who loved me enough to give me that peace- to die for me...

For we are but strangers here- we will walk this earth for such a short time- yet we will have an eternity to dance, dance with them, again. And what a sweet reunion that will be. What a sweet, sweet day.

May God bless Avery's family as they remember him and mourn his memory as well as the future that they had dreamt for him. And may you pause tonight, hug those you love, and thank God for all that is good, all that you have, and all that is to come knowing that one day it will be even better.

Click here if you would like to send a message to Avery's family, letting them know that you care. I cannot tell you what this means to a family- if you are thinking of them- tell them. Some of the letters that touched me most over the years, were from people I never met (perhaps you)... I wonder if they will ever know what a comfort they were to me.

Hugs-

L