Our Cross to Bear

Luke 9:23-24 says that to save our life we must deny ourselves and take up our crosses and follow Jesus. We must lose our lives unto ourselves, for His sake, so that we may be saved. Taking up my cross daily means to live each day with the burdens that God has meant for me to carry and to do so in a way that glorifies Him. My “cross items” include the grief of being without my two children, the fear that others will forget them, the hurt that comes from others not acknowledging them and treating their lives as insignificant, the guilt and inadequacy that have come from being unable to carry any of my children to term, and feeling lost in trying to find who I am and where God wants me to be.

I no longer believe in the saying God will never give you more than you can carry. Instead, I believe that God can, will, and has given me more than I could bear. Why? So that I may be humbled before Him and allow Christ to fully live in me as I learn to turn to Him for strength. If losing my children were “easy,” I would have no need of Him – He who has carried me and walked with me and felt my pain. It’s not easy to rest in Him. It’s not easy to accept the light burden (Mt. 11:28-30) He offers and trust Him to take care of my grief, my anger, my guilt. But I know that God will not forsake me because of this. I know (and must remind myself) that the trials of this life are fleeting; that they are nothing compared to the glory that we will receive in the next life (II Cor. 4:1-18). This is my hope and what saves me from being overcome.

We Are Changed

These are the ways, positive and negative, in which my losses have changed me:

• My heart has softened and I’ve become more compassionate
• I’ve started writing and being creative again
• I’ve grown closer to God, my husband, and the family and friends who have been there for me and Louie during our losses
• I have more conviction about my beliefs, my faith, and how Louie and I choose to live our lives and honor our babies
• My desire to serve and reach out to others has been re-ignited and strengthened
• I’m less willing to conform myself to who or what others want of me, even if it’s at the expense of the relationship
• I’m more fearful of losing my loved ones and am more fully aware of how delicate life is
• I feel jealousy towards those who appear to have the life I want, especially when it involves carrying healthy pregnancies and being able to take home a living child (I know that what I see isn’t the whole story and am learning to let go of these feelings; it’s difficult)
• I have less confidence in my body and my ability to carry a child that will live
• I’ve become even more of a “homebody” and would rather be at home than out socializing
• I’m less tolerant of people complaining about things that are within their control to change
• The weather seems to affect my moods more

I need to give up my former life, that in which I thought I had control, and be who He wants me to be, renewed and refined by Him.

Facing the Future

When confronted by painful memories, I plan to stop, breath, allow myself to feel however I am feeling, and remember the good memories I have of my pregnancies, of being with Calvin, and of the ways in which people have supported me and Louie.

When people ask How many children do you have? or Do you have children? I will answer, We lost two children during pregnancy. Louie came up with this answer, and I like it because it acknowledges that we have children without the awkwardness of the follow-up questions that would come if we just said yes, and because it leaves it open-ended for people in terms of whether they want to leave it at that or ask more.

When I meet a child born at the time of one of my losses or one that would be the same age as one of my babies, I will try to remember that I was blessed with the time that I did have with Calvin and Rainbow. If I feel hurt or unable to interact with or hold this child, I will respect those feelings, while trying not to disrespect or the hurt the child’s parents.

I will celebrate Mother’s Day by greeting the important mothers in my life and by taking time for myself, because, although I have no living children, I am still a mother.

I plan on celebrating Calvin’s birthday each year by having a party for him and our family and providing an opportunity for everyone to do something to remember him and feel close to him. We celebrated Calvin’s first heavenly birthday last month with immediate family and a few close friends, and it included singing Happy Birthday before releasing balloons and making scrapbook pages for his baby book. I also created Kisses for Calvin and Calvin’s Cupcakes for him. We included Rainbow by releasing purple and pink balloons. I also made Calvin’s birthday cake in her honor by making a 6-layer rainbow cake. For Rainbow’s anniversary, we will probably do something smaller, with just the two of us.

Finding Support

I have found support in family, friends, my bereaved parents support group, and other babyloss mommies I’ve met on BabyCenter and through blogging, and through unexpected connections in Facebook, Twitter, and email. I found this support network by reaching out, expressing my grief, and honestly sharing how losing my babies have affected me. I feel so much more supported and less alone and isolated (which I did feel early on).

The similar experience of pregnancy and baby loss, and the emotions of hope and sorrow that come with it, have allowed me to form deep connections to and with women who are hundreds of miles away, some of whom I only know by a screen name. But I share in their grief and in their joys, and find comfort in knowing that others know my struggles and heartache. Seeing others who have learned to live again and not just survive after losing their babies gives me hope of doing the same.

Acceptance Without Shame

I honestly didn’t know if there were signs that showed I was accepting my losses. Opening up the book and starting this lesson had me in tears. Even thinking the words I accept that my babies have died is difficult and has me feeling shaky. I finally asked my husband and he answered, You talk about Calvin being in heaven… So I guess that’s my answer? I know Calvin is not here in body. I know that Rainbow is in Heaven with Calvin. I have hope in being with them again, and that means that I know they aren’t here, because I wouldn’t be hoping to be with them if they were still here with me. Romans 8:24: For in hope were we saved: but hope that is seen is not hope: for who hopeth for that which he seeth?

I don’t know if I feel okay about “accepting” my losses. I’m not in denial about Calvin and Rainbow dying. I guess my issue is the connotation of the word. I think of the phrase accept and move on, and I associate moving on with leaving behind, and that feels like forgetting. And I don’t want to forget. I guess I need to remember what the beginning of the lesson says:Acceptance means facing the full reality of the loss of your child. It is not the absence of pain, but learning to live with the ongoing reminders of your loss. But I still don’t know what facing the fully reality of the loss of your child means. I do like that it says that it’s not about the pain being gone, but about being able to live with it. I guess if that’s what acceptance is, I’m okay with that.

Is It Over Yet?

I will never be finished with my grieving – at least not in this life – but I know that it will get easier.

This Threads of Hope, Pieces of Joy Bible Study is part of the “Walking With You” outreach of Sufficient Grace Ministries, led by Kelly Gerken. To learn more, read Kelly’s post: “Upcoming Threads of Hope Study.”

To read my posts on other lessons, please use the links below:
•Lesson One: Your Story
•Lesson Two: So Many Questions
•Lesson Three: This Can’t Be Happening
•Lesson Four: Why Me?
•Lesson Five: How Can I Go On?
•Lesson Six: I’ve Got to Get Better Soon
•Lesson Eight: Learning to Let Go
•Lesson Nine: Finding Joy

Unfortunately, our busyness does not rid us of our grief…

I agree with that. It can provide a temporary distraction, yes, and give us something else to focus on, but I’ve found that being “busy” just to be busy, that being wrapped up in work or projects, are not as helpful as others might think. “Keep busy,” “move on,” “get on with life” may seem like solutions to those who around us, because they only see what’s on the surface, they only see the “doing” that appears to be life returning to normal. Lisette at Learning to Breathe Again, recently blogged about an anonymous comment that basically told her to stop living in the past. People just aren’t comfortable with grief.

I’ve learned, from personal experience and from professionals in the books I’ve read (which have helped me to feel less abnormal-slash-crazy-slash-alien), that a big part of healing is leaning into the grief, of respecting and accepting the emotions that come with it, and working through it. This is not the same as wallowing (though I thing there is a time for that as well).

Over two months ago, I took a couple avocado pits, wrapped them up in damp paper towels, put them in a sandwich bag, and left them on top of the microwave. I told Louie that I wanted to grow them for Calvin and Rainbow. One day I checked on them and the paper towels were stained pink and the pits felt a little slimy. I thought about throwing them, out thinking they may have gone bad, but I didn’t want to give up. I changed the paper towels and put them back. A few weeks later, I checked on them again and saw that one was starting to crack. I covered them up and put them back. I’d forgotten about them for a while, and noticed them again. This time, one had a root starting to poke through the pit. I changed the paper towels, again, wrapped the pits up, put them back in the bag. Today, I checked on them and both had roots growing, and one had the start of a stem. I transferred them into glass cups with water, and can’t wait to be able to put them into soil. Two plants – one for each of my babies. These pits needed time in the wet, damp darkness so that they could be cracked open and new life could start. I think it’s a pretty good metaphor for grief and the time and patience it takes before we’re fully ready able to find joy and light again.

Your Activities

Immediately after losing Calvin my activities consisted of sleeping, crying, looking through his memory box, crying, sleeping. Right after losing Rainbow, I spent a week in bed, alternating between crying and watching “Ugly Betty.” I would try to make myself feel better by watching TV and DVDs. I distracted myself with more freelance work, but eventually the emptiness would grow. Others would try to distract me by changing the subject when I would start to feel sad. This didn’t help because it made me feel like my sadness was being trivialized or ignored.

The activities that did help were the ones that allowed me to express my grief in a more creative and meaningful way, whether it is remembering my own babies or honoring the children of other babyloss parents. One example was Mother’s Day last year, when Louie took me to the beach and I wrote names on the beach for babyloss mommies. If you look at my My First Mother’s Day post, you can see photos I took of these words: “I am a Mother” and “I gave my child to God.”

Something that I need to work on is not letting myself get overwhelmed to the point of exhaustion. Lately, I have realized my need to make time for quietness, and I am learning to find stillness again.

Parenting

I wrote this in January:

Waiting for my Earth Babies

I’m not ready to settle
(I’m sorry to say) for
“just the two of us” or
“us against the world.”

I loved our children — love

our children — in a way

that is raw and primitive
and full.

I miss our babies.

And (I know it’s selfish to say) I want
the chance to be a mommy
to living children, not just a mother
to little ones who are Heaven-bound.

I think having another child could help ease the grief of losing the chance to mother a child on earth, but I don’t think it would ever erase the aching for Calvin and Rainbow. With each milestone of this next child, I would know what I missed with my first two.

Though I do want to have more children, I’m also afraid of losing another baby. I’m afraid that the reason neither of my babies survived was because they are better off without me.

If I am unable to have anymore children, I think I would be devastated, and would have to cling to God even more and pray that He would be quick in unveiling the plans He has for me.

Your Relationship to God

I promised to raise my children to know and follow Jesus, to give them to Him. Although I cry for my babies and wish they were with me and want them here, I never asked God “why me,” but rather for understanding. Although He took them in a way that I did not want, I do not question it. With Calvin, I promised myself that I would take care of my special needs baby, should he be affected by the amniotic bands or have Down’s Syndrome. I’m not sure how these promises impact my life today, because my babies aren’t with me. I don’t mean this to be bitter at all. I just don’t know how they affect life right now. I would the same for future children.

What do God’s promises mean to me? They mean that I don’t grieve without hope. I have faith and trust in God. Sometimes, my hope of finding happiness and joy has waivered, especially when I first lost Calvin and Rainbow, but I know He is with me and has carried me through the most difficult times. I really like Isaiah 43:2 and hold it especially close to my heart. Father Miguel shared it with me the day I delivered Calvin and gave me the bookmark to the left (in lesson 5, I shared the bookmark that Father Miguel gave Louie). Revelations 7:17 also speaks to me: For the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne shall be their shepherd, and shall guide them unto fountains of waters of life: and God shall wipe away every tear from their eyes. Through His grace, my tears will turn to rejoicing.

This Threads of Hope, Pieces of Joy Bible Study is part of the “Walking With You” outreach of Sufficient Grace Ministries, led by Kelly Gerken. To learn more, read Kelly’s post: “Upcoming Threads of Hope Study.”

To read my posts on other lessons, please use the links below:
•Lesson One: Your Story
•Lesson Two: So Many Questions
•Lesson Three: This Can’t Be Happening
•Lesson Four: Why Me?
•Lesson Five: How Can I Go On?
•Lesson Seven: Moving On to Acceptance
•Lesson Eight: Learning to Let Go
•Lesson Nine: Finding Joy

After losing my babies, I expressed my grief through crying, writing, art, and talking with people. I still do that. I also allowed myself to be sad — honestly, I wanted to be sad forever, if it meant I would never forget my children. I don’t allow myself to cry or express this sadness (at least in real life) as much anymore because I feel like I need to keep going and there are people in my life who expect be to be better already. Sometimes, I get afraid of getting stuck in the sadness, but I know it’s important to honor and respect my feelings. For some reason, though, I haven’t been putting that into practice as much lately.

Depression

I know I’m depressed when I feel lethargic and don’t want to get out of bed. Other times, I can’t sleep because my mind can’t find rest. I stop taking care of myself and things just start to get messy at home. I find that when I can grieve “productively,” and do things that honor my babies, that when I lean into the grief again, I start to feel better. It’s like what is said in Psalms 126:6: He that goeth forth and weepeth bearing seed for sowing, shall doubtless come again with joy, bringing his sheaves [with him]. I need to make something of my mourning and carry the good back with me.

Loneliness

I hoped my parents, family, and close friends could help me. Those who were present did, but I was hurt by the lack of response and acknowledgment, by words that were insensitive and didn’t respect my mourning, my grieving process, and the decisions we made. I felt betrayed, abandoned, and forgotten. And what hurt more was that if felt like Calvin was being forgotten, and his life was not respected.

My family was also grieving for my loss and for the hurt Louie and I were experiencing. I think they may have been overwhelmed by their feelings and not knowing how to offer us the comfort we needed because it was difficult to see us in such pain. I think they would rather see us “healed” and “moved on” or maybe just didn’t know what to say. So we were offered simple platitudes such as He’s with God, It wasn’t meant to be, and other things that would definitely make other baby loss parents really upset. These things did not help. They felt isolating.

Christ knew a lot of loneliness. He knew grief. I believe He knows my sorrow and understands it. In the times when I feel most alone, I am reminded that God will always be with me because He is the only to whom one I can turn. Father Miguel gave Louie the bookmark to the left, which has Romans 8:35-39 on, after he blessed and baptized Calvin (that’s Louie’s handwriting). He is constant, when others are not. I feel blessed by that.

Guilt

More recently, I’d been feeling really guilty about my losing Calvin, and specifically the day I delivered him and all the things I didn’t do. I found myself consumed, replaying this over and over again as I lay in bed at night, trying to make it right. I’ve tried to remind myself that I did the best I could at the time. I asked God to take this guilt from me, and I think He is doing that. He is helping me to let go. This incessant self-doubt starting has started lifting from me. What really helped was the homily at church a few weeks ago, in which the priest specifically spoke of needing to let go of unrealistic guilt. Louie and I had originally planned to go at different time at a church closer to home, but went to St. Ignatius instead because we were running late. I was meant to hear that homily, from that priest, at that Mass, at that church.

Fear

I’m more afraid for people who have babies or who are pregnant. I’m afraid I will never have a living child. I’m afraid that something will happen to my husband or to my loved ones. I’m repeatedly plagued by the thoughts of not getting pregnant again, and of always losings my babies if I do.

When I am anxious I turn to God and to my husband and try to keep trusting that whatever He chooses to do with me and my life is for His greater glory and that I will be with my babies again in Heaven.

God will be with me and uphold me. He will comfort me and be by my side. I can cry to Him. He gives power, love, and discipline. When I find myself depressed, I plan to turn to God’s Word to lift me up. That is one new way I have learned to deal with my anxiety. By turning to His Word and remembering his promise, I can be soothed:

Why art thou cast down, O my soul? And [why] art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise him [for] the help of his countenance. (Psalm 42:5)

This Threads of Hope, Pieces of Joy Bible Study is part of the “Walking With You” outreach of Sufficient Grace Ministries, led by Kelly Gerken. To learn more, read Kelly’s post: “Upcoming Threads of Hope Study.”

To read my posts on other lessons, please use the links below:
•Lesson One: Your Story
•Lesson Two: So Many Questions
•Lesson Three: This Can’t Be Happening
•Lesson Four: Why Me?
•Lesson Six: I’ve Got to Get Better Soon
•Lesson Seven: Moving On to Acceptance
•Lesson Eight: Learning to Let Go
•Lesson Nine: Finding Joy

I really like this sentence in the opening of this chapter: Anger expressed appropriately, however, can deepen our relationships, leading to personal growth. As the book says, expressing it in a destructive way can be severely damaging, but it’s also not healthy to suppress anger and let it eat away at you. It festers. It becomes toxic. And in the end, I think it can end relationships, when issues aren’t addressed. Anger is a valid emotion, and shoving it aside because you love the person with whom you are upset is an unfair expectation. If you love someone you should be willing to listen and try to at least respect where these emotions are coming from. When handled appropriately, I definitely agree that it can deepen relationships because it starts to create better understanding.

Our Response to Anger

I think the three warnings in Ephesians 4:26-27 have it right:

1. Be angry and sin not
2. let not the sun go down upon your wrath
3. neither give place to the devil

Anger with Others

I don’t feel angry too much anymore, but it did affect me in a very negative way. It made me unhappy and bitter. It made me want to separate from those that hurt me.

What makes me the most angry about my loss now is that I was not more prepared. I’ve let go of a lot of the anger I had towards people who trivialized my loss or who weren’t there when we first found out about something was wrong with Calvin. I haven’t forgotten, no, but I won’t let it eat away at me anymore. I think expressing myself – whether it was on Twitter or on my blogs or talking with Louie and our support group or writing it in my private journal – has been really helpful in allowing me to slowly let go of it. I’ve also been praying, too, asking God to lift these negative feelings from me, to help me do as Ephesians 4:31-32 says: Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and railing, be put away from you, with all malice³² and be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving each other, even as God also in Christ forgave you. I have also addressed some of these emotions in my N.E.T. sessions with my chiropractor.

Anger with Ourselves

I wrote about about a lot of my should have’s in this post: My Failings as a Mother. Since losing Calvin and Rainbow, I’ve felt inadequate, like less of a women, like less of a wife. I feel like my body failed me, my children, and my family. It has definitely hurt my self-image. It is so hard to let go of this, but I am trying. I am trying to remember Psalms 139:15-16. Calvin’s and Rainbow’s frames were not hidden from God when they were formed in my womb. He saw their souls and knew the path their lives would take before their lives even began. I have no control over the length of my babies’ lives.

Anger with God

I was never angry at God. I felt alone. I felt abandoned and forgotten. But I think I wasn’t angry at Him because I didn’t feel betrayed by Him. What I wanted most from Him was understanding. I know He had a great reason to allow my babies to die, just as He gave His only son up to death in order to save us, there is a greater mystery to Calvin’s and Rainbow’s lives that I was hurting to learn. I am still waiting, but I trust in Him.

This Threads of Hope, Pieces of Joy Bible Study is part of the “Walking With You” outreach of Sufficient Grace Ministries, led by Kelly Gerken. To learn more, read Kelly’s post: “Upcoming Threads of Hope Study.”

To read my posts on other lessons, please use the links below:
•Lesson One: Your Story
•Lesson Two: So Many Questions
•Lesson Three: This Can’t Be Happening
•Lesson Five: How Can I Go On?
•Lesson Six: I’ve Got to Get Better Soon
•Lesson Seven: Moving On to Acceptance
•Lesson Eight: Learning to Let Go
•Lesson Nine: Finding Joy

I’m posting Lesson 2 and 3 together, because I’m still so behind. I haven’t been feeling well and am fighting off a sore throat and sinus pressure that have been around for a week now. I’ve also been feeling down lately, probably because the end of the month is here, which means another day further from when I had Calvin…. Louie has said to think of as another day closer to being with our babies again.

The 4th and 5th of the month are always a mix of emotions for me. I have found, though, that thinking of Calvin and remembering having him can lift my spirits. I also remember feeling uplifted after doing Lessons 2 and 3, when I was feeling particularly down, so maybe revisiting my journal to post online will help me to break out of this. I’m scared to to go to Lessons 4 and 5 because I don’t want to find myself in there again, which seems so odd for me. Since losing my two babies, I’ve been all about allowing myself feel however I need to feel, respecting my grief, and leaning into it. I guess I just don’t want to get stuck. I know that being afraid to go there probably means I need to work through it. For now, though, let me work on this constant catching up.

To start from the beginning, click here read Lesson 1: Calvin’s Birth Story.

I didn’t mention Rainbow Baby in that post, since I chose to share Calvin’s birth story, so I wanted to also take a moment to speak of my second baby for those of you who are new to my blog through this bible study. I found out I was pregnant with Rainbow on November 22 (the Sunday before Easter and a little less than a year after I found out I was pregnant with Calvin). When I was 7 weeks pregnant, I started spotting and that turned into bleeding. I went in for an ultrasound and they only saw a fluid-filled sac. My hcg levels were within range for it to still be early in the pregnancy, but the next day, December 10th, I miscarried. We referred to this baby as Rainbow Baby, and decided to keep the name, because we both feel like she is a girl. Though her time with us was short, she showed me the expansive capacity of mother’s love. I am grateful for that. I am grateful for her.

Lesson 2: So Many Questions

Question #1: Where do I go to find out the truth?

After losing Calvin, I turned to support groups on BabyCenter.com, blogs of mothers who had also lost babies, grief books, and I also joined a support group through my hospital for bereaved parents. I had tried seeing a social worker in the OB department before joining the support group, but she trivialized my loss and said, Your baby wasn’t even a baby. Maybe it was on it’s way to becoming a baby. So that wasn’t helpful. The books helped, except when I ran into parts I didn’t agree with – like needing to stop and touch a swing your child used to play on whenever you walked by doesn’t seem like a problem to me. Neither does living your life for your baby even after he or she has died. Maybe “living for your dead baby” is subject to interpretation. The support group was really helpful, as was reading from and speaking with other baby lost mommies. Louie and I also turned to each and to God. Before we got married, we started praying together at night before bed, as our pastor suggested, and this has strengthened us especially after losing our babies. Thanking Him for choosing us to be Calvin and Rainbow’s parents, for blessing us with these two little lives, is a reminder that even this grief is a blessing.

Question #2: Where does life come from?

When we were asked to look up scripture about finding truth in the bible in the first question, I was confused, because I thought, isn’t that why we are doing this bible study? But it is provided validation and confirmation for the next verses. One that I really like is Psalm 139: 13-16:

¹³For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. ¹⁴I will praise thee; for I am fearfully [and] wonderfully made: marvelous [are] thy works; and [that] my soul knoweth right well. ¹⁵My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, [and] curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. ¹⁶Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being under feet; and in thy book all [my members] were written, [which] in continuance were fashioned, when [as yet there was] none of them.

God knew both of my babies before I had any idea there was life instead me. He knew their physical weaknesses, but they were fearfully and wonderfully made – just as He had intended them to be. And even though Calvin and Rainbow died before being born into this world, God had already wrapped them in His love. The verse that brought me to tears, especially for Rainbow Baby, who died so tiny was Jeremiah 1:5, specifically the second part: …and before thou camest forth out of the womb, I sanctified thee, [and] I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations.

Question #3: Why was my baby too weak to live?

The story of the man who was blind in John 9:1-11 and Jesus saying that it was not because of his sin or that of his parents, but rather so that through him the works of God can be shown, was a much needed reminder that it wasn’t my fault that my baby died. It is so hard to let go of the blame, to let go of a sense of control really, and to understand that sometimes we need to get saliva and mud rubbed in our eyes before being able to see. One example of this, for me, was when I found myself completely devastated and feeling alone and isolated because of some words that were said about Calvin and how he died. Louie had to go to school, and I sat on my bed sobbing. I looked at my phone and tried to think of someone I could talk to. And there was no one. No one I felt would listen and not say anything to further hurt me (even if it wasn’t intentional, much of the hurting during this grief was not intentional, I couldn’t take it). So I finally turned to scripture, and found a verse that brought me peace and stopped the tears. In that, one of the lowest moments of my grief, God was glorified, even if just for me.

Question #4: Where is my child now?

The story of David, was more difficult for me, because the reason why his son fell ill was because he took Uriah’s wife, and seemed to contradict the example we got of the blind man, but I understand the importance of seeing his ability to praise God and worship and not be torn down by his loss because he had the promise of going to be with his son in the next life.

Question #5: Can I ever understand WHY?

I don’t really have a lot of ‘WHY’ questions anymore. A lot of my questioning was more about what I did wrong, what I failed to do, and what I could have done to save my babies. My biggest ‘WHY’ question with Calvin was why didn’t our baby live if we were willing and ready to accept a special needs child and fight for our baby’s life? For Rainbow, it was why did we get pregnant again on the same timeline as Calvin, if we were just going to lose her? Another one, which I only thought but never said aloud, was in response to people saying it wasn’t meant to be; if it wasn’t meant to be, then why did I get pregnant? After losing Calvin, I really just wanted understanding. I knew God had His reasons, but I felt like if I was privy to that, then maybe it would be easier. But it is in His time, not mine. And I have faith that one day, I will understand.

Question #6: How can God help me deal with losing my baby?

I have found God’s comfort through His word; through the people who have offered us love and support; in the peace He filled me with when I held my son; through the priest who baptized my baby and in the scripture he gave me and Louie scripture after he blessed Calvin; and in the outpouring of prayers and love we received after losing Rainbow. I have found comfort in being able to do things to honor and remember my children and in the strengthening of my marriage and of my faith.

I would like to be comforted through validation of my grief, acknowledgment of the significance of losing our babies, and recognition of the life our children had and the love we continue to have for them.

Lesson 3: This Can’t Be Happening

Biblical Example #1: Joseph

When Jacob said that he would mourn for Joseph until he went to his grave, it felt like he was speaking to my heart. When I first lost Calvin, I felt like I would grieve until I died and that the raw pain would never go away. I couldn’t imagine ever finding joy again, and a lot of the past year was more about surviving (even when I didn’t want to) than it was about living. I still believe I will mourn my two babies until I die – how can I not miss my babies? How can I not be sad that they are not with me? One year out from losing Calvin, and three months since losing Rainbow, things don’t feel razor-sharp anymore (at least not constantly). There are still moments when I lose my breath, but I guess I am learning to live with and accept the life I have so far. I think part of this is because I have been so open and adamant about talking about my babies and expressing my loss. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to try to choke down all that pain.

Biblical Example #2: Job

Job was actually the first book I read completely in a long time. I read the first few books of the Old Testament on my own in junior high or high school. During confirmation we read Acts of the Apostles. I actually downloaded an iPhone app through which I’ve been reading the bible (including Job and for this bible study; weird merging of religion and technology? Or a cool way to bring your bible with you wherever you go? both?).

Like Job, I felt very blessed in my life. My husband and I have been together since the end of high school, we were comfortable and happy to grow our family with children. We were afraid during the difficulties early on in the pregnancy and when we found out about the amniotic bands, but we had faith and prayed for our baby to live. When Calvin died, it felt like our world fell apart, and just as Job was admonished by his friends, we also felt alone and like no one understood. We clung to each other and continued to hope in God that we would hold our babies again. The scripture I relate to most is Job 13:15. That was why I was drawn to read Job. I came across this verse early on during my grieving for Calvin:Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him… because even as God is allowing me to suffer from the loss of two children, I am choosing to put my trust in Him, to trust that He will see me and Louie through this grief and suffering and that we will find joy again.

Now that I think about it, that verse has multiple meanings and doesn’t just speak to clinging to the Lord and having faith through the difficulties. It also says Though he slay me, that God is the cause of the pain, and that it how I felt when I lost Calvin and Rainbow, like I was dying and being broken multiple times over. But it is more than that. I am being refined in the fire.

The Grief Chart

Right now I am in between depression and busy-ness. I’ve been distracting myself from my grief, which is why I think I have been feeling down.

Relief

I only felt relief when Calvin was delivered, but ti was only from the physical pain.
I feel guilty about this.

Denial

The hardest thing to face about my loss is that I have to live out the rest of my life on earth without my two babies. I like the quote by C.S. Lewis I live each day thinking about living each day in grief. It can be so overwhelming and just the anticipation of the pain can be consuming, especially as milestones and anniversaries approach; even the thought of potential triggers is difficult. This is something that has been hard for others to understand, but as I’ve learned that, it’s easier to recover from people’s lack of foresight.

Facing Your Loss

I need to work on keeping God first, handing my grief and suffering over to Him, and being vigilant even in my sorrow so I am not led astray.

The promise in Romans 8:28: And we know that to them that love God all things work together for good, [even] to to them that are called according to [his] purpose, makes me feel hopeful that good will grow out of my grief and that, ultimately, God has a greater plan and good reason for allowing Calvin and Rainbow to die before they could be born. Some positive things that have resulted from my babies’ lives are:

• finding my support group
• drawing closer to God
• being able to offer support to others
• drawing closer to Louie
• being able to be an advocate for families who are grieving pregnancy loss and baby loss
• being more creative in my babies’ honor
• finding love and support in unexpected places
• finding conviction and confidence in expressing myself
• becoming a mommy
• the wonderful ladies I’ve come to know through our shared connection

I thank God for each of these things and feel truly blessed by all the good I experienced during my pregnancies and after my losses. Although I grieve, and I do so deeply, I do not do so without hope. I have faith that Louie and I will find real joy again, and are thankful for the happiness we have experienced with Calvin and Rainbow and after they went to be with God.

And if you have read this far, I am thankful for that also, because your eyes must be aching! I am grateful for the chance to share not only how Calvin and Rainbow have profoundly affected me, but also how God is working in and through my life.

This Threads of Hope, Pieces of Joy Bible Study is part of the “Walking With You” outreach of Sufficient Grace Ministries, led by Kelly Gerken. To learn more, read Kelly’s post: “Upcoming Threads of Hope Study.”

To read my posts on other lessons, please use the links below:
•Lesson One: Your Story
•Lesson Four: Why Me?
•Lesson Five: How Can I Go On?
•Lesson Six: I’ve Got to Get Better Soon
•Lesson Seven: Moving On to Acceptance
•Lesson Eight: Learning to Let Go
•Lesson Nine: Finding Joy

On December 6, 2009, a friend of ours, Abe took pictures of me, Louie, Calvin, and Rainbow (though he didn’t know I was pregnant with Rainbow when he took them) for a digital photography class project. He wanted to share our story.

After some apprehension of being made vulnerable, Louie and I decided that, yes, we would do it. It was important to have Calvin’s life recognize and to help others to understand that this loss is so much more profound than the silence around pregnancy loss would have some people believe. And if losing Calvin can touch others in any way – whether it be providing others with insight to the grief of losing a child or letting someone else know that she or he is not alone – it makes the pain of being without him just a little bit more bearable.

Thank you so much, Abe, for being so willing to take on a painful story, for honoring our son, and for acknowledging our grief. This video means a lot to me and Louie.

These pictures were actually taken just four days before I started miscarrying our Rainbow baby, and it means so much for me to have these pictures — this is the closest we can get to having family pictures this side of Heaven. I love that through Calvin’s story we are able to have these images and remember not only our firstborn, but also our second baby in heaven.

Happy 11 Months in Heaven, my sweet little boy. I miss you so much, Calvin. I hope you and Rainbow are having fun in Heaven as you watch over Mommy and Daddy.