Moments Frozen in Time.
One night, when Lily was two years old, we played hide and seek. I hid in my bedroom, under the bed. She came tromping into the room, stood still for a moment, swiveled her head back and forth and then stumped, she uttered, "they hide so good."
My mind swelled with this new discovery that Lily was a person. No longer a baby, or a blob, but a bonafide human being with a mind and conscious thoughts. She was not parroting something she heard us say to her. She was not responding to a question directed at her. She was drawing her own conclusion about the situation.
I lay frozen in my hiding place, marveling at this creature, this sentient being that was my child - a baby blob no longer.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Dreams
I dream in color and my dreams are vivid. I've been dreaming about Tim. It's the same scenario each time - he's dying. I can't stop it and the grief is overwhelming - but not unbearable. Even though I know he is slipping away, I have time - time to tell him how much I love him. How his life impacted mine. How his friendship changed me. How his love saved me. How our friendship gave me my best friend.
Even now, as I grieve with her, I am in awe of Jana. I read her updates and I marvel at her reflections and her insight. Tim's words ring true, she is the wisest woman I know.
Her eloquence is a gift. She writes from a place of revelation and growth. She wishes that she could dream of Tim and I wish that I could dream of Anabelle. If only for a moment, to feel her in my arms, to hang onto some memory that doesn't include pain, suffering and farewell.
I envy Tim in one way. He is where she is. He sees her in perfection. No suffering. No more dying.
I struggle with the brevity of her life. I long to have something permanent to cling to. Some monument that states she lived. But the reality is that she didn't - not outside my body. Her death certificate may say that she lived for 12 hours and 10 minutes but I know the truth. In my heart, in my being, I know she died inside of me. The fact that they started her heart pumping and a machine expanded and contracted her lungs are just details. She slipped away suddenly, violently, in the early hours of February 20, 2007. How I wish I could have given her a peaceful parting.
In my longed for dream, she is 3 years old. Her chubbly little fingers cling tightly to mine as we tour her pre-school. In the fall, she will let go of my fingers and grasp onto those of her teacher. She will learn her letters, make new friends and grow up. She has a whole life ahead of her. New sneakers and backpack. Little love notes in her lunchbox. Her short dark curls bouncing as she skips through the classroom door. One last look back at me. She blows kisses to me. I catch them with my heart and she steps out of sight.
I dream in color and my dreams are vivid. I've been dreaming about Tim. It's the same scenario each time - he's dying. I can't stop it and the grief is overwhelming - but not unbearable. Even though I know he is slipping away, I have time - time to tell him how much I love him. How his life impacted mine. How his friendship changed me. How his love saved me. How our friendship gave me my best friend.
Even now, as I grieve with her, I am in awe of Jana. I read her updates and I marvel at her reflections and her insight. Tim's words ring true, she is the wisest woman I know.
Her eloquence is a gift. She writes from a place of revelation and growth. She wishes that she could dream of Tim and I wish that I could dream of Anabelle. If only for a moment, to feel her in my arms, to hang onto some memory that doesn't include pain, suffering and farewell.
I envy Tim in one way. He is where she is. He sees her in perfection. No suffering. No more dying.
I struggle with the brevity of her life. I long to have something permanent to cling to. Some monument that states she lived. But the reality is that she didn't - not outside my body. Her death certificate may say that she lived for 12 hours and 10 minutes but I know the truth. In my heart, in my being, I know she died inside of me. The fact that they started her heart pumping and a machine expanded and contracted her lungs are just details. She slipped away suddenly, violently, in the early hours of February 20, 2007. How I wish I could have given her a peaceful parting.
In my longed for dream, she is 3 years old. Her chubbly little fingers cling tightly to mine as we tour her pre-school. In the fall, she will let go of my fingers and grasp onto those of her teacher. She will learn her letters, make new friends and grow up. She has a whole life ahead of her. New sneakers and backpack. Little love notes in her lunchbox. Her short dark curls bouncing as she skips through the classroom door. One last look back at me. She blows kisses to me. I catch them with my heart and she steps out of sight.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Dear Friend,
One of the lessons I've learned is that honesty and openess pave the way for God to reveal his kindness to us. Vulnerability invites others to share our sorrows and deepen our relationships. It's ironic that it's not the good times but the bad that strengthens bonds.
Had she survived her birth, Anabelle would have had to undergo 3 major surgeries within the first few months of her life. We can only imagine what our life and hers would have been like. Sitting on this side of things, I would trade almost anything to have her - even with all the challenges.
Whatever you're feeling or questioning, it's normal. Have a lot of grace for yourself. The unthinkable has happened. You're going to be in shock for a while.
Lily still prays for the moms who are pregnant to have healthy babies. She has a special place in her heart for babies and prays for the sick and poor every night. I never thought I would be in this place where I am now, sharing the things with you that I am. All the credit goes to God. In the midst of our tragedy, he showered us with kindness through our family, friends, neighbors, even strangers. Our suffering taught us how to praise God even when times are bad. Actually, things went from bad to worse. After Anabelle died, my grandmothers had a heart-attack and 4 strokes, I was in a car accident, and all work dried up for Dave and me (we were self-employed). Honestly, I just wanted to die. The burden was too great. I don't even know how we survived. We were on our knees, face downcast, crying and praying. I clung even tighter to those two scriptures from Psalms. And God did deliver us from our troubles. He does save those who are crushed in spirit.
We are by no means worry-free. We have the same troubles most American families are facing during these difficult times. And we still have to pray and cry and depend on God. We don't always make the right choices. We don't always pray. I get angry and disgruntled. I sometimes feel, "why me." But then I always remember that mine is not the worst situation. There is so much suffering going on around the world and I have to pray to make a difference. There is so much more to this short life.
Keep in mind, it's been two years since my baby died. I'm still grieving. Many tears are still shed. I am still learning the lessons. The pain hasn't stopped. It's still deep. But, I don't feel as though I will shatter into a million pieces. That's progress, right?
Blessings to your family.
Chris
One of the lessons I've learned is that honesty and openess pave the way for God to reveal his kindness to us. Vulnerability invites others to share our sorrows and deepen our relationships. It's ironic that it's not the good times but the bad that strengthens bonds.
Had she survived her birth, Anabelle would have had to undergo 3 major surgeries within the first few months of her life. We can only imagine what our life and hers would have been like. Sitting on this side of things, I would trade almost anything to have her - even with all the challenges.
Whatever you're feeling or questioning, it's normal. Have a lot of grace for yourself. The unthinkable has happened. You're going to be in shock for a while.
Lily still prays for the moms who are pregnant to have healthy babies. She has a special place in her heart for babies and prays for the sick and poor every night. I never thought I would be in this place where I am now, sharing the things with you that I am. All the credit goes to God. In the midst of our tragedy, he showered us with kindness through our family, friends, neighbors, even strangers. Our suffering taught us how to praise God even when times are bad. Actually, things went from bad to worse. After Anabelle died, my grandmothers had a heart-attack and 4 strokes, I was in a car accident, and all work dried up for Dave and me (we were self-employed). Honestly, I just wanted to die. The burden was too great. I don't even know how we survived. We were on our knees, face downcast, crying and praying. I clung even tighter to those two scriptures from Psalms. And God did deliver us from our troubles. He does save those who are crushed in spirit.
We are by no means worry-free. We have the same troubles most American families are facing during these difficult times. And we still have to pray and cry and depend on God. We don't always make the right choices. We don't always pray. I get angry and disgruntled. I sometimes feel, "why me." But then I always remember that mine is not the worst situation. There is so much suffering going on around the world and I have to pray to make a difference. There is so much more to this short life.
Keep in mind, it's been two years since my baby died. I'm still grieving. Many tears are still shed. I am still learning the lessons. The pain hasn't stopped. It's still deep. But, I don't feel as though I will shatter into a million pieces. That's progress, right?
Blessings to your family.
Chris
Thursday, January 08, 2009
A close friend has put me in contact with a mother who is grieving the death of her 3 month old son. My heart breaks for their terrible loss. Writing to her, has allowed me to comfort her. It's healing to be able to do that. Following is my letter to her.
Dear Friend,
In response to your request about what helped me to grieve and heal, there are so many different things. Each situation is unique and different things will be helpful to you and your family. My only suggestion is open your heart to wherever God wants to lead you. For me, that meant sometimes just sitting silent, with my eyes closed and hands in an open position, receiving God's grace and whatever else he had for me. I believe it was during those times that the Holy Spirit intervened for me with prayers and petitions that I didn't know how to
express.
Anabelle died during labor almost 2 years ago. My placenta abrupted before she was born. Even though I delivered her 45 minutes after my water broke, we don't know how long she was deprived of oxygen. The pain and grief we went through was overwhelming. I didn't know how I would survive her death. Our oldest, Lily, was 4 1/2 yrs. old at the time and she suffered the loss as well. She had been praying for a baby sister for 2 years. She was just heart-broken. There were many tears. We didn't hide our grief from Lily but allowed her to openly express her grief, too. We still talk about Anabelle and we still miss her tremendously. It's comforting to know that she's in heaven, but it would have been wonderful to know her here on earth.
"Empty Cradle, Broken Heart" by Deborah Davis was helpful. OurBradley instructor gave the book to me and I found it very helpful. Also, I clung to these two Pslams, especially the verses listed below.
Psalm 31 & 34
Psalm 31:14-15
But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, "You are my God."
My times are in your hand;
Psalm 34:17-18
When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out
of all their troubles.
The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.
Honestly, I prayed alot, cried even more and blogged or wrote in my journal when I could. I was surrounded by wonderful friends who were a safe haven for me to talk about what I was going through as much as I needed to. Or to not talk about it.
Another baby will never replace the one you lost, just as your love for your other children cannot replace your love for him.
At the time, I did not think I wanted any more children. I couldn't bear the thought. I was too afraid of losing another baby. My sister didn't comment either way about whether or not we should have more children, she just encouraged us to make decisions out of love and not
fear. My best friend also encouraged us to reach out for joy in whatever way God was giving it to us. Almost a year later, I was pregnant with Kate. She has been such a joy and a blessing to our family. We love her deeply but she will never replace Anabelle. We still talk about Anabelle. Lily and I imagine what she must be doing in heaven. She would have been two so maybe she is two in heaven.
I am so sorry for your loss. Your family is in my prayers. If you need to talk please know that I'm here.
Love,
Chris
Dear Friend,
In response to your request about what helped me to grieve and heal, there are so many different things. Each situation is unique and different things will be helpful to you and your family. My only suggestion is open your heart to wherever God wants to lead you. For me, that meant sometimes just sitting silent, with my eyes closed and hands in an open position, receiving God's grace and whatever else he had for me. I believe it was during those times that the Holy Spirit intervened for me with prayers and petitions that I didn't know how to
express.
Anabelle died during labor almost 2 years ago. My placenta abrupted before she was born. Even though I delivered her 45 minutes after my water broke, we don't know how long she was deprived of oxygen. The pain and grief we went through was overwhelming. I didn't know how I would survive her death. Our oldest, Lily, was 4 1/2 yrs. old at the time and she suffered the loss as well. She had been praying for a baby sister for 2 years. She was just heart-broken. There were many tears. We didn't hide our grief from Lily but allowed her to openly express her grief, too. We still talk about Anabelle and we still miss her tremendously. It's comforting to know that she's in heaven, but it would have been wonderful to know her here on earth.
"Empty Cradle, Broken Heart" by Deborah Davis was helpful. OurBradley instructor gave the book to me and I found it very helpful. Also, I clung to these two Pslams, especially the verses listed below.
Psalm 31 & 34
Psalm 31:14-15
But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, "You are my God."
My times are in your hand;
Psalm 34:17-18
When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out
of all their troubles.
The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.
Honestly, I prayed alot, cried even more and blogged or wrote in my journal when I could. I was surrounded by wonderful friends who were a safe haven for me to talk about what I was going through as much as I needed to. Or to not talk about it.
Another baby will never replace the one you lost, just as your love for your other children cannot replace your love for him.
At the time, I did not think I wanted any more children. I couldn't bear the thought. I was too afraid of losing another baby. My sister didn't comment either way about whether or not we should have more children, she just encouraged us to make decisions out of love and not
fear. My best friend also encouraged us to reach out for joy in whatever way God was giving it to us. Almost a year later, I was pregnant with Kate. She has been such a joy and a blessing to our family. We love her deeply but she will never replace Anabelle. We still talk about Anabelle. Lily and I imagine what she must be doing in heaven. She would have been two so maybe she is two in heaven.
I am so sorry for your loss. Your family is in my prayers. If you need to talk please know that I'm here.
Love,
Chris
Monday, September 29, 2008
Almost a year after losing our sweet Anabelle, I unexpectedly found myself pregnant. I say unexpectedly because we had been trying to get pregnant and discovered that I had not been ovulating for months. So, we grieved that lost dream but never gave up hope that God had more in store for us, even if it wasn't the plan we expected. With faith, Dave and I made the decision to live our lives with grace and dignity and be open to whatever path God would set in front of us.
We were thrilled and scared about this welcomed surprise. As the days, weeks and months progressed, our excitement mounted. At 28 weeks, we had a level II ultrasound and were delighted to find out that we were expecting another girl! Tears of joy streamed down my face as the doctor examined the baby's heart, stomach, intestines, lungs, even her little mouth was viewable. She looked perfect and healthy in every way. We left the doctor's office elated, tearful and full of gratitude.
At last, the morning of September 15th rolled around. I had been having contractions off and on for almost a month and wasn't sure if "today was the day." I was ten days past my "due date." Starting at 7am, my contractions started getting longer, stronger and closer together. Around 9am, after speaking to me briefly on the phone, Dave concluded that today was indeed the day. He came home and took charge as I was feeling very indecisive. He called the doctor's office to inform them of my situation and alert them that we were headed to the hospital. With Lily in tow and Kathleen and my Mom on the way, we headed to the hospital.
Stephanie, one of my midwives was on call that day and was prepared for our arrival. By 10am I was gowned and examined and found to be 100% effaced, 6cm dilated and +2 station. Fetal monitors were placed on me and I tried to rest between contractions. Dave was a great coach and he talked me through my contractions. I could focus on his voice, calm, reassuring and strong. I couldn't have done it without him.
Lying on my side, it was difficult to find a comfortable position and contractions started coming one right on top of the other. It wasn't long before I started pushing. Laboring on my side was not part of my plan but once I was down, it was near impossible to get motivated to move. I pushed in this position for about an hour. The baby was still in the posterior position and at the suggestion of my midwife, I somehow found the energy to get on my hands and knees in hopes of rotating the baby. Another hour or more passed with heavy contractions and lots of pushing but still no baby. Finally, around the three hour mark, my midwife suggested that I get up and try to empty my bladder. I wasn't sure how, short of a crane, I was going to get off the bed and walk to the bathroom, but with Dave grabbing one arm and Kathleen, the other, they basically carried me to the bathroom. Every few steps, I squatted and pushed with the contractions. I labored on the toilet for a little while but my legs were feeling numb so I headed back to bed, again squatting every few steps until I made it back to the end of the bed, where I stayed for a little while, squatting and pushing.
I somehow managed to climb back into bed and was in a semi-reclined position. I recall Stephanie asking me to breathe through some of the contractions at the end and not push in order to allow the tissue to stretch. The walking and squatting encouraged Kate to finally rotate into position and shortly thereafter, I pushed her out - all 9lbs. 4oz. and 20 1/2 inches of glorious baby!!
She nursed right away with a strong and vigorous latch. There was not a dry eye in the room as we welcomed
the newest member of our family. I am still amazed at how big she is and that I actually birthed her without drugs and without interventions. Miraculously, I only needed a few stitches at the end. I absolutely attribute it all to my Bradley training, prenatal yoga and all the tailor sitting/squatting I did throughout my pregnancy. It was the hardest work I've ever done in my entire life and Kate was worth every second.
We were thrilled and scared about this welcomed surprise. As the days, weeks and months progressed, our excitement mounted. At 28 weeks, we had a level II ultrasound and were delighted to find out that we were expecting another girl! Tears of joy streamed down my face as the doctor examined the baby's heart, stomach, intestines, lungs, even her little mouth was viewable. She looked perfect and healthy in every way. We left the doctor's office elated, tearful and full of gratitude.
At last, the morning of September 15th rolled around. I had been having contractions off and on for almost a month and wasn't sure if "today was the day." I was ten days past my "due date." Starting at 7am, my contractions started getting longer, stronger and closer together. Around 9am, after speaking to me briefly on the phone, Dave concluded that today was indeed the day. He came home and took charge as I was feeling very indecisive. He called the doctor's office to inform them of my situation and alert them that we were headed to the hospital. With Lily in tow and Kathleen and my Mom on the way, we headed to the hospital.
Stephanie, one of my midwives was on call that day and was prepared for our arrival. By 10am I was gowned and examined and found to be 100% effaced, 6cm dilated and +2 station. Fetal monitors were placed on me and I tried to rest between contractions. Dave was a great coach and he talked me through my contractions. I could focus on his voice, calm, reassuring and strong. I couldn't have done it without him.
Lying on my side, it was difficult to find a comfortable position and contractions started coming one right on top of the other. It wasn't long before I started pushing. Laboring on my side was not part of my plan but once I was down, it was near impossible to get motivated to move. I pushed in this position for about an hour. The baby was still in the posterior position and at the suggestion of my midwife, I somehow found the energy to get on my hands and knees in hopes of rotating the baby. Another hour or more passed with heavy contractions and lots of pushing but still no baby. Finally, around the three hour mark, my midwife suggested that I get up and try to empty my bladder. I wasn't sure how, short of a crane, I was going to get off the bed and walk to the bathroom, but with Dave grabbing one arm and Kathleen, the other, they basically carried me to the bathroom. Every few steps, I squatted and pushed with the contractions. I labored on the toilet for a little while but my legs were feeling numb so I headed back to bed, again squatting every few steps until I made it back to the end of the bed, where I stayed for a little while, squatting and pushing.
I somehow managed to climb back into bed and was in a semi-reclined position. I recall Stephanie asking me to breathe through some of the contractions at the end and not push in order to allow the tissue to stretch. The walking and squatting encouraged Kate to finally rotate into position and shortly thereafter, I pushed her out - all 9lbs. 4oz. and 20 1/2 inches of glorious baby!!
She nursed right away with a strong and vigorous latch. There was not a dry eye in the room as we welcomed
the newest member of our family. I am still amazed at how big she is and that I actually birthed her without drugs and without interventions. Miraculously, I only needed a few stitches at the end. I absolutely attribute it all to my Bradley training, prenatal yoga and all the tailor sitting/squatting I did throughout my pregnancy. It was the hardest work I've ever done in my entire life and Kate was worth every second.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Knots, Knots, Everywhere Knots!
I have noticed an interesting behavior exhibited by my almost 6 year old. Actually, this is not a new development. She has been fascinated with tying knots for as long as I can remember. Shoe laces, scarves, tights, ribbon, any string dangling from any toy is tied together to form long ropes. These ropes are draped across her doll house as decoration. She uses them to tie her strollers together and hitches them to her bicycle to form a caravan across the living room. Her toy box is filled with various strips of anything tied together in knots!
What is the fascination? And why, oh why, am I impulsively drawn to untie them?
I have noticed an interesting behavior exhibited by my almost 6 year old. Actually, this is not a new development. She has been fascinated with tying knots for as long as I can remember. Shoe laces, scarves, tights, ribbon, any string dangling from any toy is tied together to form long ropes. These ropes are draped across her doll house as decoration. She uses them to tie her strollers together and hitches them to her bicycle to form a caravan across the living room. Her toy box is filled with various strips of anything tied together in knots!
What is the fascination? And why, oh why, am I impulsively drawn to untie them?
Monday, January 28, 2008
Mind-Numbing Work
Lily is so articulate, intelligent and loving. She is fun to be around and has a great imagination. She is like a sponge, soaking up all the education that the fine state of California has to offer (*sigh*) and she is reading like it's going out of style!
That being said, I was shocked to discover how mind-numbing it can be to help her write. Of course, the end result of her short stories are witty, humorous stories of heroism and adventure, but the path to her greatness is sounded out - o-n-e - a-g-o-n-i-z-i-n-g - l-e-t-t-e-r - a-t - a - t-i-m-e. Sometimes, the same letter is sounded out multiple times. Oh the joys of having a kindergartener!
Lily is so articulate, intelligent and loving. She is fun to be around and has a great imagination. She is like a sponge, soaking up all the education that the fine state of California has to offer (*sigh*) and she is reading like it's going out of style!
That being said, I was shocked to discover how mind-numbing it can be to help her write. Of course, the end result of her short stories are witty, humorous stories of heroism and adventure, but the path to her greatness is sounded out - o-n-e - a-g-o-n-i-z-i-n-g - l-e-t-t-e-r - a-t - a - t-i-m-e. Sometimes, the same letter is sounded out multiple times. Oh the joys of having a kindergartener!
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