Hi readers ~
I just had to write a quick post to let you know that I have not forgotten about you. I have been out of commission due to some form of the flu and cold for about 5 days now. I'm hoping that I will feel better soon so that I can write some more entertaining, heartwarming, and/or uplifting posts about Hailey and our journey together.
And,while I started out liking this simplistic black/white type theme for my blog, it really has never fit 'me' and I'm looking to do some upgrading soon as well. So be on the lookout for some new and improved changes coming your way (I hope)!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Sharing Hailey's Story
I just finished writing and submitting Hailey's story for Be Not Afraid - you can find the link to the organization in my list of links on the right of the page. I'm very excited for the chance to have Hailey's story published on their website and encourage other women to not be afraid of diagnoses like Trisomy 18. It is one of the best resources I have come across because it is so inspirational, positive, and encouraging. I will keep you updated and let you know if/when it gets posted.
I'm also going to be writing a short article for a pregnancy center's quarterly newsletter that will go out this summer- nothing 'major' by any means, but I love any chance I get to share about Hailey! :)
I'm also going to be writing a short article for a pregnancy center's quarterly newsletter that will go out this summer- nothing 'major' by any means, but I love any chance I get to share about Hailey! :)
Monday, February 22, 2010
Flailing Frustrations, Like Mother, Like Daughter
In a facebook note I wrote while we were with Hailey in the hospital, I recorded a bunch of things about her to help others get to know her. One of the things I shared was how she had punched her stuffed giraffe in the nose and had punched me in the nose. Did you know little babies could punch? Well they can. :)
There was a time when I wasn't sure if Hailey had the ability to move her legs or arms. It took awhile for me to see her make little movements, which was probably because of her physical condition as well as her little body being under the affects of morphine I'm sure. Eventually I saw movements, first her hands, then her arms, and sometimes her legs. It was a slow, gradual process. But eventually my fear that she couldn't move her arms and legs was provided wrong. And boy were there times that she would move!
Like any baby, Hailey had her moments of fussiness - sometimes I was unsure what she was fussy from - was it gas or was it pain from her surgery? But whatever the cause, she had moments of extreme alertness in which she expressed her extreme frustration.
In her frustrations she would flail her arms left and right and every which way. This is how the giraffe and I got punched in the noses. She was having a flailing fit one time and I bent in close to give her a kiss to try to comfort her - big mistake as she wacked me a good one! She exhibited so much physical strength during these bouts of frustration - she would make her body go rigid and swing those arms all over the place - you did not want to get in her way! Those moments were a mixture of a mother's worry (was she okay? was she in a lot of pain since she is behaving like this? my poor baby...) and a mixture of humor... I'm sorry, but she looked so silly when she'd get spitting mad for what seemed like no reason to me! Even when she was angry she was cutie pie who melted my heart...
During those times I would just have to hold her the best I could and try to soothe her with my voice, a song, rocking, whatever I could come up with. For the first few moments of her expressing her frustrations and flailing about, nothing I could do would console her. I just had to sit back and let her go at it...eventually my attempts at soothing her would work...but it was probably more of her being exhausted that made her stop if I was going to be honest.
Today, as I thought about writing this post, I thought the topic was actually quite fitting for me today. Today was "one of those days" for me. Little, stupid things frustrating me and adding up and building up a greater frustration inside of me that ends up bringing to the surface all the "junk" I'm carrying around in my grief. My frustrations, my grief, my anger, whatever emotion it might be from whatever origin, will build up inside of me to the point of extreme agitation, at which point my soul longs to flail about.
My "flailing" about sometimes comes in the form of breaking down and letting sobs overtake me. Sometimes I literally flail about, like my little Hailey would, and punch some pillows (as I've mentioned in a prior post). Sometimes I desire to let my frustrations out by punching something - like a punching bag or something - but I don't, I control myself. And all the while, God just sits by my side and lets me go at it like I did with Hailey.
It's interesting that I can relate to my baby girl in this way. We both have been through a lot and have plenty of things that can cause us to become so very frustrated that we long to flail about and just rid ourselves of our frustrations. We lose control in our frustrations, we desire to let it out on something. In the end, we end up being exhausted - physically, mentally, emotionally - it takes a lot out of us...Building up all that emotion and releasing it...But it needs to be released...
While it's exhausting, once it's done, Hailey would have me to hold her tight and soothe her back to a peaceful state, and I have God holding me close in His arms, working His peace in my heart and soothing me back to a peaceful state.
Don't we all experience this? We get to the point where we're carrying our burdens on our own and we need to let it all out in a scream, by punching something (no I'm not encouraging violence here...), etc. We all throw our tantrums, babies, toddlers, and apparently even adults. The beautiful thing is that God loves us and lets his children have our tantrums and moments of flailing about in frustration - and He waits for us to lay our burdens at His feet, crawl into His arms, and find that comfort and peace we so desperately need.
Give your burdens to the Lord and he will take care of you. ~Pslam 55:22
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. ~Matthew 11:28
There was a time when I wasn't sure if Hailey had the ability to move her legs or arms. It took awhile for me to see her make little movements, which was probably because of her physical condition as well as her little body being under the affects of morphine I'm sure. Eventually I saw movements, first her hands, then her arms, and sometimes her legs. It was a slow, gradual process. But eventually my fear that she couldn't move her arms and legs was provided wrong. And boy were there times that she would move!
Like any baby, Hailey had her moments of fussiness - sometimes I was unsure what she was fussy from - was it gas or was it pain from her surgery? But whatever the cause, she had moments of extreme alertness in which she expressed her extreme frustration.
In her frustrations she would flail her arms left and right and every which way. This is how the giraffe and I got punched in the noses. She was having a flailing fit one time and I bent in close to give her a kiss to try to comfort her - big mistake as she wacked me a good one! She exhibited so much physical strength during these bouts of frustration - she would make her body go rigid and swing those arms all over the place - you did not want to get in her way! Those moments were a mixture of a mother's worry (was she okay? was she in a lot of pain since she is behaving like this? my poor baby...) and a mixture of humor... I'm sorry, but she looked so silly when she'd get spitting mad for what seemed like no reason to me! Even when she was angry she was cutie pie who melted my heart...
During those times I would just have to hold her the best I could and try to soothe her with my voice, a song, rocking, whatever I could come up with. For the first few moments of her expressing her frustrations and flailing about, nothing I could do would console her. I just had to sit back and let her go at it...eventually my attempts at soothing her would work...but it was probably more of her being exhausted that made her stop if I was going to be honest.
Today, as I thought about writing this post, I thought the topic was actually quite fitting for me today. Today was "one of those days" for me. Little, stupid things frustrating me and adding up and building up a greater frustration inside of me that ends up bringing to the surface all the "junk" I'm carrying around in my grief. My frustrations, my grief, my anger, whatever emotion it might be from whatever origin, will build up inside of me to the point of extreme agitation, at which point my soul longs to flail about.
My "flailing" about sometimes comes in the form of breaking down and letting sobs overtake me. Sometimes I literally flail about, like my little Hailey would, and punch some pillows (as I've mentioned in a prior post). Sometimes I desire to let my frustrations out by punching something - like a punching bag or something - but I don't, I control myself. And all the while, God just sits by my side and lets me go at it like I did with Hailey.
It's interesting that I can relate to my baby girl in this way. We both have been through a lot and have plenty of things that can cause us to become so very frustrated that we long to flail about and just rid ourselves of our frustrations. We lose control in our frustrations, we desire to let it out on something. In the end, we end up being exhausted - physically, mentally, emotionally - it takes a lot out of us...Building up all that emotion and releasing it...But it needs to be released...
While it's exhausting, once it's done, Hailey would have me to hold her tight and soothe her back to a peaceful state, and I have God holding me close in His arms, working His peace in my heart and soothing me back to a peaceful state.
Don't we all experience this? We get to the point where we're carrying our burdens on our own and we need to let it all out in a scream, by punching something (no I'm not encouraging violence here...), etc. We all throw our tantrums, babies, toddlers, and apparently even adults. The beautiful thing is that God loves us and lets his children have our tantrums and moments of flailing about in frustration - and He waits for us to lay our burdens at His feet, crawl into His arms, and find that comfort and peace we so desperately need.
Give your burdens to the Lord and he will take care of you. ~Pslam 55:22
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. ~Matthew 11:28
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Something to read and think about...
I've added a new article to my "Turn Mourning into Dancing Page" called "Tough Questions" that is a great, short read. A family friend shared it with me. The article shares two different experiences two mothers went through with their babies. Some of my story with Hailey can be found in both of the stories shared.
For after you read: ('spoiler' warning)
What are my thoughts after reading the article?
1. The early screenings pregnant women under go are very unreliable. In the article, the first woman was told that her baby would have Trisomy 21, but she ended up having a healthy baby. In the article, the second woman was told that her baby would have Trisomy 21, and her baby did have Trisomy 21. In my life, I was told that Hailey might have a Trisomy disorder during the ultrasound portion of the screening, and later after the 2nd part of the screening was completed (the bloodwork) I was told that Hailey would not have a disorder after all and she would be a healthy baby. However, Hailey did end up having a disorder, Trisomy 18. In all cases the screenings failed.
2. It makes me furious that when women have these 'routine' screenings doctors immediately ask if we want to terminate our pregnancies. The two women were both faced with this option BECAUSE OF THEIR DOCTORS' SUGGESTIONS. I was asked if I was interested in terminating my pregnancy before the 2nd part of the screening was even completed which meant that the results weren't even in and the doctor was asking me if I wanted to have an abortion. Really?! What happened to the oaths and codes of ethics doctors are supposed to adhere to - you know the ones that say things like: "...I solemnly pledge myself to consecrate my life to the service of humanity...I will maintain the utmost respect for human life from the time of conception..." Did you know that the original Hippocratic Oath mentions not conducting abortions but the modern one removes that phrase?
3. Ultimately, my words of 'wisdom' or 'advice' to pregnant women: It is your choice whether you want to have a screening done or not. Please realize that if you do have a screening, the only way to know for sure whether there is a health problem with your baby is NOT through a screening - they are not very reliable. If you have a negative screening that shows your baby will be healthy, realize there is the chance that he/she may not be - as was the case with Hailey. If you have a positive screening indicating that there is something 'wrong' with your baby, realize there is a chance he/she may be healthy. I would beg and plead with any woman who has a positive screening to not go with the doctor's suggestion to terminate your pregnancy. One, you might kill your own healthy son or daughter. Two, even if something is 'wrong' with your child, choose life - because you will find that though the doctors may tell you your son or daughter might be disabled, handicapped, sick, abnormal, unhealthy, imperfect, etc., your son or daughter remains a miraculous creation by God and while life may be difficult for a time for you and your child, you will see beyond the narrow minds of these doctors and experience a love you never thought possible. And I should also mention, the only way to know for sure (99%) about the health of your baby is through an amniocentesis, a test which runs the risk of a spontaneous abortion - and again, my response to that can be found in my previous statements...
4. I admire the women in the article. I celebrate their final decisions to keep their babies as God celebrates them too. The tough questions we are faced with are in deed tough, and the answers we came up with could also be considered tough by some, but our answers left us with amazing results - three amazing little human beings that have impacted countless people.
For after you read: ('spoiler' warning)
What are my thoughts after reading the article?
1. The early screenings pregnant women under go are very unreliable. In the article, the first woman was told that her baby would have Trisomy 21, but she ended up having a healthy baby. In the article, the second woman was told that her baby would have Trisomy 21, and her baby did have Trisomy 21. In my life, I was told that Hailey might have a Trisomy disorder during the ultrasound portion of the screening, and later after the 2nd part of the screening was completed (the bloodwork) I was told that Hailey would not have a disorder after all and she would be a healthy baby. However, Hailey did end up having a disorder, Trisomy 18. In all cases the screenings failed.
2. It makes me furious that when women have these 'routine' screenings doctors immediately ask if we want to terminate our pregnancies. The two women were both faced with this option BECAUSE OF THEIR DOCTORS' SUGGESTIONS. I was asked if I was interested in terminating my pregnancy before the 2nd part of the screening was even completed which meant that the results weren't even in and the doctor was asking me if I wanted to have an abortion. Really?! What happened to the oaths and codes of ethics doctors are supposed to adhere to - you know the ones that say things like: "...I solemnly pledge myself to consecrate my life to the service of humanity...I will maintain the utmost respect for human life from the time of conception..." Did you know that the original Hippocratic Oath mentions not conducting abortions but the modern one removes that phrase?
3. Ultimately, my words of 'wisdom' or 'advice' to pregnant women: It is your choice whether you want to have a screening done or not. Please realize that if you do have a screening, the only way to know for sure whether there is a health problem with your baby is NOT through a screening - they are not very reliable. If you have a negative screening that shows your baby will be healthy, realize there is the chance that he/she may not be - as was the case with Hailey. If you have a positive screening indicating that there is something 'wrong' with your baby, realize there is a chance he/she may be healthy. I would beg and plead with any woman who has a positive screening to not go with the doctor's suggestion to terminate your pregnancy. One, you might kill your own healthy son or daughter. Two, even if something is 'wrong' with your child, choose life - because you will find that though the doctors may tell you your son or daughter might be disabled, handicapped, sick, abnormal, unhealthy, imperfect, etc., your son or daughter remains a miraculous creation by God and while life may be difficult for a time for you and your child, you will see beyond the narrow minds of these doctors and experience a love you never thought possible. And I should also mention, the only way to know for sure (99%) about the health of your baby is through an amniocentesis, a test which runs the risk of a spontaneous abortion - and again, my response to that can be found in my previous statements...
4. I admire the women in the article. I celebrate their final decisions to keep their babies as God celebrates them too. The tough questions we are faced with are in deed tough, and the answers we came up with could also be considered tough by some, but our answers left us with amazing results - three amazing little human beings that have impacted countless people.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Hailey's Purpose
To my readers: Finally, I'm taking time to write the post I've been longing to write. I hope that as many people read this post as possible - so please share with others if you feel led to. This is a long one. I tried to make it short, but I honestly could probably write an entire book about this post, and I know this post will still not do Hailey's story justice, but it's a start. So please take the time to read the entire thing if you can. Oh and you may be wondering why I'm writing in pink - I want to make sure this post stands out. :)
On December 4, 2009, when Hailey was three days old, in a NICU at the Children's Hospital in Birmingham, AL, doctors told us that Hailey had full Trisomy 18, a lethal genetic disorder. On that day, our worst fear was realized, our baby was going to die.
QUESTIONS
There were so many questions I had and that others had and have in these situations. Why did our baby have to be sick? Why did she have to die? Why did this happen to her, a fragile little baby? Why did this happen to us, young, healthy, good people? Why did we have to lose our first child? Why do we have to experience this painful loss as young parents? What does this all mean? What good is there in this terrible situation? Where is God in this?
GOD SPEAKS
I prayed and prayed. I talked to God, a lot. I asked Him so many questions - many of those mentioned above. On December 29, 2009, when Hailey was 4 weeks old, I attempted to soak away my troubles and stress in a hot bath. There, alone in the tub, I broke down into heavy weeping and started a conversation with God that I wrote down in my journal and will never forget for the rest of my life. God will speak to us if we listen. And that night He spoke to me with clarity that I had never experienced before.
Here is some of what I wrote in my journal that night:
"God has given us our first child... a daughter...with a lethal genetic disorder...she most likely won't see her 1st birthday...and all I am left with is: WHY????"
That is the big question after all - what everyone wants to know - WHY.
Here are the flow of my thoughts that followed:
"Is it punishment? Is it because God doesn't want us to have kids? Then why let me get pregnant God? Why let us marry with the hopes of starting a family? Where are you in this God? Do you not want me to be a mom? Am I too selfish? too sinful? Does it have to do with problems and sin in our life?"
And then came my 'conversation' with God that I recorded in my journal. As I started having thoughts and questions - responses would pop back at me - thoughts kept coming into my head and heart out of nowhere - I believe this was God speaking to me. Here is what I wrote in my journal as I 'conversed' with God that night, a week before Hailey passed away:
Me: God, I wanted to be a mom so badly.
God: You ARE a mom.
Me: I wanted a child.
God: I gave you one. A special one. I let you meet her and spend time with her.
Me: Does she know I'm her mom?
God: Yes. She can't express it to you now. She will know you in Heaven. She will experience more joy and love than imaginable when she goes. She'll wait for you. You will be with her again. In perfection.
Me: But God, I will miss her so badly until then.
God: I will heal you.
Me: Why did she have to be sick? Why does she have to die?
God: I have a purpose. I created her. Your world is imperfect, and I will make her perfect in Heaven.
Me: But why send her here like this?
God: To show the world Me. What Faith is. Through Hailey. Through you and Josh.
Me: What if I can't do it? I don't want to see her die.
God: ...You can. She'll be better in Heaven....
I had more questions and things I wrote in my journal, but that was the end of God blessing me with understanding that night.
PURPOSE
There is a purpose, or maybe even countless purposes, in Hailey's life and her death. Her life wasn't a cruel punishment from God. The situation isn't cruel and meaningless and hopeless. It's all the opposite. He has a plan, even if it isn't ours.
God poured out His blessings on us by giving us Hailey. He allowed us to become pregnant and have a child and have those awesome experiences of pregnancy and birth that not everyone can have. Before we even knew anything was wrong with Hailey, we were in awe of the miraculous creation of a baby. Having her, even in all her 'imperfection,' we were more in awe of God's miraculous creation. God blessed us by giving us the privilege of being a mother and a father, and we will always have that privilege even if our daughter isn't here with us.
When I saw and learned of all the health problems Hailey had, my definition of beauty changed, my perspective changed. Beauty is not perfection, as I had long thought and as our society teaches. Beauty is love. Love is beauty. Creation is beauty. Everything that God creates has beauty. The day I first laid eyes on my daughter, I saw the beauty in her. I didn't see her through my 'normal' eyes - those eyes that had once feared what I would do or think if I saw an 'imperfect' baby. I didn't see ugliness. I didn't see imperfection. I didn't see any of that. It was there. But instead, I saw Hailey through God's eyes that day and every day after. I saw her through the eyes of love. She was beautiful. Life is beautiful, all life.
Her life, the fragile life of a baby, a life that we were told could be gone at any moment, taught us a lot about life. The cliches you sometimes hear became more real to us than ever before. She taught us to truly live in the moment. Treasure each day. She made us appreciate how fragile and unique and wonderful life is. She taught us that we're not guaranteed anything but the moment that we're in. Don't take life, any life, for granted. Hailey made us appreciate things more. She made us appreciate life more. She made us have a greater understanding of God's creation and how miraculous it is. She even made us appreciate the little things that we take for granted - like breathing, eating, etc.
People sometimes think it's so normal and effortless for a baby to arrive here, for a baby to take his/her first breaths, for a baby to take a bottle or breast, for a baby to grow and develop, and so on. But each of those things are such miraculous accomplishments for all babies - our baby made us see that as she struggled to do those 'normal' things. Success for Hailey wasn't learning to crawl or learning to talk - those milestones parents long for. Success for Hailey was redefined - success was her breathing on her own. Success was her taking a bottle. Success was her consuming more than 10ml of breast milk in a feeding. Success was her letting out a burp. People tend to dislike things like poopy diapers - we literally cheered when Hailey got a poopy diaper because it meant her digestive system was functioning properly. People tend to dislike crying babies - we were happy many times that Hailey cried because it meant she was breathing. I could go on and on. Not many people could have seen her life as successful or thought she could accomplishment a lot - but she was and did.
Her successes showed us what strength and courage are - and that even babies have them. She had a lot of health problems and had surgery and stitches and I could go on and on. She had so much working against her. But God showed us His strength, courage, and healing in her. No He didn't take away all of her problems or her disorder, but He worked a lot of miraculous healing in her. So much healing that we were able to bring her home and have many peaceful days with her that I will always treasure in my heart.
Hailey, and God, also changed our marriage. The night before Hailey passed away was probably the best night of my entire life. We were all in bed together - I had my husband, my daughter in my arms, and our dog snuggled up in the blankets. My family all together in that moment. That night I felt an abundance of love, joy, peace. Everything was "right." Now, I should mention that Josh and I have struggled to spend time with God as a married couple in the past, and I had bought us a new devotional to read for Christmas. That night, God brought us all together, and Josh read the first day of our devotional while I held Hailey and Opie slept at the foot of our bed. It was wonderful, and we have not missed a devotional since. Every night we do our devotional together. The only thing missing these nights is Hailey, but we keep her picture in our devotional book, so she still remains with us in a way. That night was awesome for our marriage, I can't really explain the greatness in it, so you just have to trust me on this one. Hailey truly brought us together as a couple. God used her to do that. Josh and I talk about that night a lot. To us it seemed like Hailey and God decided that night that her work here on earth was done, she could go Home now.
The most evident impact Hailey's life has had on my own has to do with my faith. I have had my faith since high school, but never has it been as strong as it is now since Hailey came into my life. I pray more. I spend more time in His word. I worship more. God continues to use Hailey, her life, her death, and my grief to reveal himself to me and teach me about my faith - many of these things come through in a lot of my posts. God showed me what love is. God showed me His love. God taught me there is joy in sorrow and hope when it seems hopeless. He reminded me He is always with me. He worked so many blessings and miracles in Hailey and in our lives. He showed me that He will carry me, give me strength, and heal me. And He has done so much more...
I'll briefly mention a little bit from the pastor's message at Hailey's memorial service - he focused on the question we were/are all asking: where is God in this? God was with Hailey when she was born (Before I formed you in the womb I knew you. Jeremiah 1:5) and is with her now (Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14). And God is with each of us in our grief (The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Pslam 34:18).
So what was the purpose of our daughter being born with a lethal genetic disorder like full Trisomy 18? What was the purpose of her short life of 36 days? Ultimately, I believe God used Hailey to reveal Himself to me, Josh, and many others. He used her to bring glory to Himself. God continues to use Hailey to do these things even though she is gone. Her short life full of struggles was not in vain. God could not have revealed so many things about life and Himself in any other situation... It's kind of funny how many times in the Bible God used babies to do such great things. Such tiny, fragile, beings have such tremendous power - think of Moses and the story of his life as a baby, think of how the Savior of our universe came into the world - a way in which no one expected...
Even now after I've received a lot of clarity and understanding in this dark time, I wonder sometimes, why us, why did this have to happen to us. We are good people with morals and faith. We're healthy. We work hard. Etc. And I get frustrated when I see parents with young children in stores who are filthy, clearly unhealthy, rude, mean, etc. and I can't help bu get mad that they have their children and I don't have mine. But I know why God gave us Hailey. He knew we would take care of her. He knew we'd keep her. He knew we'd give her the best life she could have. He knew we'd love her. He knew we could handle it. He knew we wouldn't see it as cruelty and pain. He knew we could find the blessings and the joy. He knew He could work good in it. Other couples and parents might not have been able to love Hailey like we did. Many end up choosing to end a life like Hailey's rather than embracing it. It absolutely breaks my heart and makes me sick when I think about that... So... when I have those thoughts of frustrations about why other people have healthy babies, and we had our Hailey, those frustrations are brief and eventually go away. Because we know that God chose us for Hailey for a reason. We loved her like no one else would. And God chose to bless us in return by experiencing a love for her and a joy found in her that is indescribable.
To those of you reading who are blessed to have children, cherish them. Every minute. Cherish it. Love on them with all you have. Hold them closer, hug them tighter, kiss them more. To those of you who don't/can't have children or who have experienced loss like I have, I hope you find some encouragement and inspiration in what can be a very dark situation. I pray that everyone that knew Hailey or knows about her story will also see God's love and know He is real and He is not a distant or cruel God. And I pray that God continues to use Hailey to affect people's lives for the better.
Many people have come to me in various ways, a brief conversation, a card, an email, etc. and have told me how Hailey has impacted their lives. I plan to write another post soon on that topic. It is all more evidence of God's plan in using Hailey's life for good...
[caption id="attachment_238" align="aligncenter" width="430" caption="My Miraculous Daughter"]
[/caption]
On December 4, 2009, when Hailey was three days old, in a NICU at the Children's Hospital in Birmingham, AL, doctors told us that Hailey had full Trisomy 18, a lethal genetic disorder. On that day, our worst fear was realized, our baby was going to die.
QUESTIONS
There were so many questions I had and that others had and have in these situations. Why did our baby have to be sick? Why did she have to die? Why did this happen to her, a fragile little baby? Why did this happen to us, young, healthy, good people? Why did we have to lose our first child? Why do we have to experience this painful loss as young parents? What does this all mean? What good is there in this terrible situation? Where is God in this?
GOD SPEAKS
I prayed and prayed. I talked to God, a lot. I asked Him so many questions - many of those mentioned above. On December 29, 2009, when Hailey was 4 weeks old, I attempted to soak away my troubles and stress in a hot bath. There, alone in the tub, I broke down into heavy weeping and started a conversation with God that I wrote down in my journal and will never forget for the rest of my life. God will speak to us if we listen. And that night He spoke to me with clarity that I had never experienced before.
Here is some of what I wrote in my journal that night:
"God has given us our first child... a daughter...with a lethal genetic disorder...she most likely won't see her 1st birthday...and all I am left with is: WHY????"
That is the big question after all - what everyone wants to know - WHY.
Here are the flow of my thoughts that followed:
"Is it punishment? Is it because God doesn't want us to have kids? Then why let me get pregnant God? Why let us marry with the hopes of starting a family? Where are you in this God? Do you not want me to be a mom? Am I too selfish? too sinful? Does it have to do with problems and sin in our life?"
And then came my 'conversation' with God that I recorded in my journal. As I started having thoughts and questions - responses would pop back at me - thoughts kept coming into my head and heart out of nowhere - I believe this was God speaking to me. Here is what I wrote in my journal as I 'conversed' with God that night, a week before Hailey passed away:
Me: God, I wanted to be a mom so badly.
God: You ARE a mom.
Me: I wanted a child.
God: I gave you one. A special one. I let you meet her and spend time with her.
Me: Does she know I'm her mom?
God: Yes. She can't express it to you now. She will know you in Heaven. She will experience more joy and love than imaginable when she goes. She'll wait for you. You will be with her again. In perfection.
Me: But God, I will miss her so badly until then.
God: I will heal you.
Me: Why did she have to be sick? Why does she have to die?
God: I have a purpose. I created her. Your world is imperfect, and I will make her perfect in Heaven.
Me: But why send her here like this?
God: To show the world Me. What Faith is. Through Hailey. Through you and Josh.
Me: What if I can't do it? I don't want to see her die.
God: ...You can. She'll be better in Heaven....
I had more questions and things I wrote in my journal, but that was the end of God blessing me with understanding that night.
PURPOSE
There is a purpose, or maybe even countless purposes, in Hailey's life and her death. Her life wasn't a cruel punishment from God. The situation isn't cruel and meaningless and hopeless. It's all the opposite. He has a plan, even if it isn't ours.
God poured out His blessings on us by giving us Hailey. He allowed us to become pregnant and have a child and have those awesome experiences of pregnancy and birth that not everyone can have. Before we even knew anything was wrong with Hailey, we were in awe of the miraculous creation of a baby. Having her, even in all her 'imperfection,' we were more in awe of God's miraculous creation. God blessed us by giving us the privilege of being a mother and a father, and we will always have that privilege even if our daughter isn't here with us.
When I saw and learned of all the health problems Hailey had, my definition of beauty changed, my perspective changed. Beauty is not perfection, as I had long thought and as our society teaches. Beauty is love. Love is beauty. Creation is beauty. Everything that God creates has beauty. The day I first laid eyes on my daughter, I saw the beauty in her. I didn't see her through my 'normal' eyes - those eyes that had once feared what I would do or think if I saw an 'imperfect' baby. I didn't see ugliness. I didn't see imperfection. I didn't see any of that. It was there. But instead, I saw Hailey through God's eyes that day and every day after. I saw her through the eyes of love. She was beautiful. Life is beautiful, all life.
Her life, the fragile life of a baby, a life that we were told could be gone at any moment, taught us a lot about life. The cliches you sometimes hear became more real to us than ever before. She taught us to truly live in the moment. Treasure each day. She made us appreciate how fragile and unique and wonderful life is. She taught us that we're not guaranteed anything but the moment that we're in. Don't take life, any life, for granted. Hailey made us appreciate things more. She made us appreciate life more. She made us have a greater understanding of God's creation and how miraculous it is. She even made us appreciate the little things that we take for granted - like breathing, eating, etc.
People sometimes think it's so normal and effortless for a baby to arrive here, for a baby to take his/her first breaths, for a baby to take a bottle or breast, for a baby to grow and develop, and so on. But each of those things are such miraculous accomplishments for all babies - our baby made us see that as she struggled to do those 'normal' things. Success for Hailey wasn't learning to crawl or learning to talk - those milestones parents long for. Success for Hailey was redefined - success was her breathing on her own. Success was her taking a bottle. Success was her consuming more than 10ml of breast milk in a feeding. Success was her letting out a burp. People tend to dislike things like poopy diapers - we literally cheered when Hailey got a poopy diaper because it meant her digestive system was functioning properly. People tend to dislike crying babies - we were happy many times that Hailey cried because it meant she was breathing. I could go on and on. Not many people could have seen her life as successful or thought she could accomplishment a lot - but she was and did.
Her successes showed us what strength and courage are - and that even babies have them. She had a lot of health problems and had surgery and stitches and I could go on and on. She had so much working against her. But God showed us His strength, courage, and healing in her. No He didn't take away all of her problems or her disorder, but He worked a lot of miraculous healing in her. So much healing that we were able to bring her home and have many peaceful days with her that I will always treasure in my heart.
Hailey, and God, also changed our marriage. The night before Hailey passed away was probably the best night of my entire life. We were all in bed together - I had my husband, my daughter in my arms, and our dog snuggled up in the blankets. My family all together in that moment. That night I felt an abundance of love, joy, peace. Everything was "right." Now, I should mention that Josh and I have struggled to spend time with God as a married couple in the past, and I had bought us a new devotional to read for Christmas. That night, God brought us all together, and Josh read the first day of our devotional while I held Hailey and Opie slept at the foot of our bed. It was wonderful, and we have not missed a devotional since. Every night we do our devotional together. The only thing missing these nights is Hailey, but we keep her picture in our devotional book, so she still remains with us in a way. That night was awesome for our marriage, I can't really explain the greatness in it, so you just have to trust me on this one. Hailey truly brought us together as a couple. God used her to do that. Josh and I talk about that night a lot. To us it seemed like Hailey and God decided that night that her work here on earth was done, she could go Home now.
The most evident impact Hailey's life has had on my own has to do with my faith. I have had my faith since high school, but never has it been as strong as it is now since Hailey came into my life. I pray more. I spend more time in His word. I worship more. God continues to use Hailey, her life, her death, and my grief to reveal himself to me and teach me about my faith - many of these things come through in a lot of my posts. God showed me what love is. God showed me His love. God taught me there is joy in sorrow and hope when it seems hopeless. He reminded me He is always with me. He worked so many blessings and miracles in Hailey and in our lives. He showed me that He will carry me, give me strength, and heal me. And He has done so much more...
I'll briefly mention a little bit from the pastor's message at Hailey's memorial service - he focused on the question we were/are all asking: where is God in this? God was with Hailey when she was born (Before I formed you in the womb I knew you. Jeremiah 1:5) and is with her now (Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14). And God is with each of us in our grief (The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Pslam 34:18).
So what was the purpose of our daughter being born with a lethal genetic disorder like full Trisomy 18? What was the purpose of her short life of 36 days? Ultimately, I believe God used Hailey to reveal Himself to me, Josh, and many others. He used her to bring glory to Himself. God continues to use Hailey to do these things even though she is gone. Her short life full of struggles was not in vain. God could not have revealed so many things about life and Himself in any other situation... It's kind of funny how many times in the Bible God used babies to do such great things. Such tiny, fragile, beings have such tremendous power - think of Moses and the story of his life as a baby, think of how the Savior of our universe came into the world - a way in which no one expected...
Even now after I've received a lot of clarity and understanding in this dark time, I wonder sometimes, why us, why did this have to happen to us. We are good people with morals and faith. We're healthy. We work hard. Etc. And I get frustrated when I see parents with young children in stores who are filthy, clearly unhealthy, rude, mean, etc. and I can't help bu get mad that they have their children and I don't have mine. But I know why God gave us Hailey. He knew we would take care of her. He knew we'd keep her. He knew we'd give her the best life she could have. He knew we'd love her. He knew we could handle it. He knew we wouldn't see it as cruelty and pain. He knew we could find the blessings and the joy. He knew He could work good in it. Other couples and parents might not have been able to love Hailey like we did. Many end up choosing to end a life like Hailey's rather than embracing it. It absolutely breaks my heart and makes me sick when I think about that... So... when I have those thoughts of frustrations about why other people have healthy babies, and we had our Hailey, those frustrations are brief and eventually go away. Because we know that God chose us for Hailey for a reason. We loved her like no one else would. And God chose to bless us in return by experiencing a love for her and a joy found in her that is indescribable.
To those of you reading who are blessed to have children, cherish them. Every minute. Cherish it. Love on them with all you have. Hold them closer, hug them tighter, kiss them more. To those of you who don't/can't have children or who have experienced loss like I have, I hope you find some encouragement and inspiration in what can be a very dark situation. I pray that everyone that knew Hailey or knows about her story will also see God's love and know He is real and He is not a distant or cruel God. And I pray that God continues to use Hailey to affect people's lives for the better.
Many people have come to me in various ways, a brief conversation, a card, an email, etc. and have told me how Hailey has impacted their lives. I plan to write another post soon on that topic. It is all more evidence of God's plan in using Hailey's life for good...
[caption id="attachment_238" align="aligncenter" width="430" caption="My Miraculous Daughter"]
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Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Punching pillows angry
Confession time... yesterday, for the first time, I got angry with God. Really angry. Punching pillows angry. Literally.
Last week was a very good week for me - emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually - all around a really good week. I had many 'good' days in a row. And of course my grief felt like suspense - waiting for when it would decide to rear it's ugly head and hit. Well of course it did... The past few days have not been the best, well obviously since I already mentioned my anger with God...
At church on Sunday we started a new series called "He's Still* Got the Whole World in His Hands" and it's about where God is in all of the uncertainty we face in our lives - pretty perfect for me, huh? Well it of course made me think of all of the uncertainty in my life and the difficulties I'm facing especially in regards to my dad's death and Hailey's passing as well as the uncertainty that comes along with being an army wife. The message reminded me that even in the most darkest hours of our lives God remains faithful and is there with us. Yes that truth is comforting. But lately it's only going so far... So the service was indeed what I needed but at the same time very difficult for me. I cried briefly in the car on the way home.
I think my 'bad' days have come as a result of me comparing myself to others -which I know I should not do. The Bible clearly teaches against envy and jealousy - but for some reason I am finding myself more and more envious of others. As much as I try not to be those things, it's so much easier said than done. As I've related before in my posts, it really seems as though pregnant women or women with newborns seem to be plaguing me. They are everywhere I go.
And this is probably where my seeds of anger began to grow with God...seeing all the moms and their babies in the stores...waiting in line behind a mother and her newborn daughter as they printed pictures at Wal-Mart and I waited to print pictures of Hailey - she had her daughter right there, and I didn't have mine...so many women in my life right now are pregnant or have newborns - I just can't avoid it - literally everywhere I go I am confronted with my loss in these ways. It feels unfair. It makes the pain raw. And it's frustrating that I can't deal with it better.
The other day in one of these situations I got in the car and I wanted to yell at God - what are you doing!? Why do you continually surround me with young mothers who are pregnant or with their newborns!? Why are you so blatantly putting me in these situations!? The Bible says you don't like when I hurt so why are you continually hurting me in this way!? Why ... why... why... Isn't it enough that I lost my daughter, isn't it enough that I lost my dad, isn't my grief in itself enough, why oh why do I need more hurt by being surrounded with mothers who are blessed enough to have their babies...
Yesterday I couldn't stop comparing myself to other women. To me, an outsider, a stranger - their lives looks perfect, like God has blessed them so much. And here I am. I feel like nothing next to these people. They have all this good and I have all this bad. Why her? Why me?
So I am trapped in this ugly business of comparing myself to others...
Yesterday was a hard day. Today is better. I'm not turning my back on God. I know He is with me. I know His truths...but sometimes they're hard to accept. I know He loves me just as much as he loves those women that are blessed with their babies and everyone else. But I'm just not feeling it lately... I'm just not understanding it...
For those people out there who think that 'religion' and 'God' are just one of those things sad people clutch on to in an attempt to feel better or whatever it is that they believe - they clearly have no idea what they are talking about. Sometimes yes it is easy and comforting to have Faith...other times, it's extremely difficult...
I still and will always have my faith and my relationship with God. But sometimes, it's not easy. And God never said following Him would be easy - in fact much of the Bible points to the opposite - that following Him is hard. But regardless, He is God. He remains certain in my uncertainty.
So right now, I'm doing okay. Today is still a hard day ... I keep finding myself in situations where people ask me if I have kids... I'm still trying to figure out how to feel less awkward when I respond to that question... but I'm not angry with God today.
I know there is a reason for all of this - and God has revealed many many things to me through Hailey and her death (that is still the post I'm longing to write - but I need to find the right day and time to do it because it will be a long one). But right now, I'm struggling to find comfort and peace in the fact that God is here with me and that He does love me...
I guess that's the tough thing about faith - believing without seeing...struggling to find hope in a seemingly hopeless situation. The Lord just put this verse on my heart...very fitting.
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. ~Hebrews 11:1
So I guess if I had to sum it up - the hardest part about Hailey's loss and my grief right now is seeing other moms and babies and being envious of them - I need to learn how to see these things and be in those situations and not want to cry and not feel paralyzing heart break because I can't isolate myself from the world... but I don't know how that's going to happen...I've definitely reached an obstacle on my journey. But I'm keeping the faith, as hard as it is. I think I'll memorize the verse above this week...
Last week was a very good week for me - emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually - all around a really good week. I had many 'good' days in a row. And of course my grief felt like suspense - waiting for when it would decide to rear it's ugly head and hit. Well of course it did... The past few days have not been the best, well obviously since I already mentioned my anger with God...
At church on Sunday we started a new series called "He's Still* Got the Whole World in His Hands" and it's about where God is in all of the uncertainty we face in our lives - pretty perfect for me, huh? Well it of course made me think of all of the uncertainty in my life and the difficulties I'm facing especially in regards to my dad's death and Hailey's passing as well as the uncertainty that comes along with being an army wife. The message reminded me that even in the most darkest hours of our lives God remains faithful and is there with us. Yes that truth is comforting. But lately it's only going so far... So the service was indeed what I needed but at the same time very difficult for me. I cried briefly in the car on the way home.
I think my 'bad' days have come as a result of me comparing myself to others -which I know I should not do. The Bible clearly teaches against envy and jealousy - but for some reason I am finding myself more and more envious of others. As much as I try not to be those things, it's so much easier said than done. As I've related before in my posts, it really seems as though pregnant women or women with newborns seem to be plaguing me. They are everywhere I go.
And this is probably where my seeds of anger began to grow with God...seeing all the moms and their babies in the stores...waiting in line behind a mother and her newborn daughter as they printed pictures at Wal-Mart and I waited to print pictures of Hailey - she had her daughter right there, and I didn't have mine...so many women in my life right now are pregnant or have newborns - I just can't avoid it - literally everywhere I go I am confronted with my loss in these ways. It feels unfair. It makes the pain raw. And it's frustrating that I can't deal with it better.
The other day in one of these situations I got in the car and I wanted to yell at God - what are you doing!? Why do you continually surround me with young mothers who are pregnant or with their newborns!? Why are you so blatantly putting me in these situations!? The Bible says you don't like when I hurt so why are you continually hurting me in this way!? Why ... why... why... Isn't it enough that I lost my daughter, isn't it enough that I lost my dad, isn't my grief in itself enough, why oh why do I need more hurt by being surrounded with mothers who are blessed enough to have their babies...
Yesterday I couldn't stop comparing myself to other women. To me, an outsider, a stranger - their lives looks perfect, like God has blessed them so much. And here I am. I feel like nothing next to these people. They have all this good and I have all this bad. Why her? Why me?
So I am trapped in this ugly business of comparing myself to others...
Yesterday was a hard day. Today is better. I'm not turning my back on God. I know He is with me. I know His truths...but sometimes they're hard to accept. I know He loves me just as much as he loves those women that are blessed with their babies and everyone else. But I'm just not feeling it lately... I'm just not understanding it...
For those people out there who think that 'religion' and 'God' are just one of those things sad people clutch on to in an attempt to feel better or whatever it is that they believe - they clearly have no idea what they are talking about. Sometimes yes it is easy and comforting to have Faith...other times, it's extremely difficult...
I still and will always have my faith and my relationship with God. But sometimes, it's not easy. And God never said following Him would be easy - in fact much of the Bible points to the opposite - that following Him is hard. But regardless, He is God. He remains certain in my uncertainty.
So right now, I'm doing okay. Today is still a hard day ... I keep finding myself in situations where people ask me if I have kids... I'm still trying to figure out how to feel less awkward when I respond to that question... but I'm not angry with God today.
I know there is a reason for all of this - and God has revealed many many things to me through Hailey and her death (that is still the post I'm longing to write - but I need to find the right day and time to do it because it will be a long one). But right now, I'm struggling to find comfort and peace in the fact that God is here with me and that He does love me...
I guess that's the tough thing about faith - believing without seeing...struggling to find hope in a seemingly hopeless situation. The Lord just put this verse on my heart...very fitting.
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. ~Hebrews 11:1
So I guess if I had to sum it up - the hardest part about Hailey's loss and my grief right now is seeing other moms and babies and being envious of them - I need to learn how to see these things and be in those situations and not want to cry and not feel paralyzing heart break because I can't isolate myself from the world... but I don't know how that's going to happen...I've definitely reached an obstacle on my journey. But I'm keeping the faith, as hard as it is. I think I'll memorize the verse above this week...
Friday, February 12, 2010
My sweet lullabies
This morning I need to write a post that is more 'happy' for myself for I fear that today could be tough day - just getting one of those feelings... so here it goes...this is another one of those very personal memories that I have only shared with my husband... but it's one of my happiest and don't want to keep it to myself.
My favorite moments spent with Hailey occurred when I was alone with her. When it was just me and her. Mom and daughter. In these moments I would be standing up or sitting in my glider. I would hold her close to me. And I would begin rocking her gently. I loved feeling the weight of her in my arms. In these moments I found tremendous joy, and in these memories I continue to find joy.
Now, if you know me at all, you know that I am not the singing type. I cannot carry a tune what-so-ever. I am not tone-deaf - I can HEAR that I don't sound good. So I never sing in front of anyone. And I always wondered to myself - how can I be a good mom when I can't sing? All moms sing to their babies - what am I going to do? Hailey will hate my voice and I will not sing in front of others because that would just be embarrassing. There would be nothing soothing about my singing!
But to my own astonishment, I would sing to Hailey. Never thought I would before I had her, but when I had her in my arms, the singing felt natural. I had to sing to her.
So when it was just the two of us, I would sing to her softly. Rocking and singing. My favorite times.
I think she liked it. I know she liked it. She would either be peacefully asleep or be looking up at me with her beautiful, giant eyes. Like she was in awe of me. I loved it. I soaked it up.
What would I sing her? Not the typical lullabies - I tried many but could never remember all of the words, haha, well after all I never cared to learn them because I never thought I'd sing them! So I would sing her anything from Christmas songs to worship songs (I loved singing "Mighty to Save" - I think Hailey enjoyed it too). Many times I would make up silly songs and sing them to her.
My all time favorite song to sing to her that I think was also her favorite song to be sung - because it also happened to have a 90% success rate with soothing her.... are you ready?
"Glow little glow worm, glimmer glimmer, I see your eyes they shimmer, shimmer..."
Pretty silly right? You might be wondering where those lyrics came from...why would I think to sing her that? Was I watching that Full House episode where Uncle Jesse sings it? No...
Hailey reminded me of one of those glow worm toys - do you know what I'm talking about? She especially reminded me of one when she was swaddled tightly and had a little hat on her head - with her round eyes and round face - she looked like a little glow worm and then the lyrics popped into my head. For some reason, Hailey seemed to love when I sang that to her. Honestly, she would be fussing and crying and I would be there holding her, rocking, and I would start singing that to her and she would stop and just look at me wide eyed like she was studying my face and my voice.
I LOVED IT.
My favorite moments spent with Hailey occurred when I was alone with her. When it was just me and her. Mom and daughter. In these moments I would be standing up or sitting in my glider. I would hold her close to me. And I would begin rocking her gently. I loved feeling the weight of her in my arms. In these moments I found tremendous joy, and in these memories I continue to find joy.
Now, if you know me at all, you know that I am not the singing type. I cannot carry a tune what-so-ever. I am not tone-deaf - I can HEAR that I don't sound good. So I never sing in front of anyone. And I always wondered to myself - how can I be a good mom when I can't sing? All moms sing to their babies - what am I going to do? Hailey will hate my voice and I will not sing in front of others because that would just be embarrassing. There would be nothing soothing about my singing!
But to my own astonishment, I would sing to Hailey. Never thought I would before I had her, but when I had her in my arms, the singing felt natural. I had to sing to her.
So when it was just the two of us, I would sing to her softly. Rocking and singing. My favorite times.
I think she liked it. I know she liked it. She would either be peacefully asleep or be looking up at me with her beautiful, giant eyes. Like she was in awe of me. I loved it. I soaked it up.
What would I sing her? Not the typical lullabies - I tried many but could never remember all of the words, haha, well after all I never cared to learn them because I never thought I'd sing them! So I would sing her anything from Christmas songs to worship songs (I loved singing "Mighty to Save" - I think Hailey enjoyed it too). Many times I would make up silly songs and sing them to her.
My all time favorite song to sing to her that I think was also her favorite song to be sung - because it also happened to have a 90% success rate with soothing her.... are you ready?
"Glow little glow worm, glimmer glimmer, I see your eyes they shimmer, shimmer..."
Pretty silly right? You might be wondering where those lyrics came from...why would I think to sing her that? Was I watching that Full House episode where Uncle Jesse sings it? No...
Hailey reminded me of one of those glow worm toys - do you know what I'm talking about? She especially reminded me of one when she was swaddled tightly and had a little hat on her head - with her round eyes and round face - she looked like a little glow worm and then the lyrics popped into my head. For some reason, Hailey seemed to love when I sang that to her. Honestly, she would be fussing and crying and I would be there holding her, rocking, and I would start singing that to her and she would stop and just look at me wide eyed like she was studying my face and my voice.
I LOVED IT.
A memory of Hailey's fight
Today I was supposed to go to my doctor on post to get a referral for us to go see a Genetics Counselor. Unfortunately, that was canceled due to the 'blizzard' like conditions here in Southern Alabama. We were told that Hailey's disorder, Full Trisomy 18, was not a result of something being 'wrong' with Josh or I, that it was purely random, and that we will be able to have healthy babies in the future if we'd like to try again. Regardless, we were told that we need to see a Genetics Counselor to discuss Hailey's Trisomy and make sure that everything is okay like they say.
So today I thought I'd blog a little more about our experience with Hailey in the NICU and Trisomy 18...
One of the health problems that most Trisomy 18 babies have is apnea - which basically means that they 'forget' to breathe. Since Hailey had full Trisomy 18, every cell of her body contained faulty data which made nearly everything difficult for her body to accomplish, made it impossible for her to grow and develop, etc. Hailey suffered from apnea while she was in the NICU. She didn't 'forget' to breathe, rather her body and the messages from her brain to tell her body to breathe did not always function correctly. I had a better understanding of what apnea was when I saw it firsthand.
The day after Hailey was born, I was discharged from the hospital and allowed to drive to Birmingham to see her (Josh was already there). When I first saw her there she had already undergone a surgery to place her intestines back inside of her stomach and some other procedures. Josh had witnessed some of Hailey's breathing problems before I had. I don't remember which day of being in the NICU it was when I saw Hailey's apnea, but it couldn't have been more than a day or two because at that point we still didn't know what was wrong with Hailey; we didn't know she had Trisomy 18. I was warned that Hailey had apnea by Josh and the doctors, and I had the basic idea of what would happen, but nothing prepared me for the attack I saw. I've never described this to anyone...
The screen that monitored and showed Hailey’s vitals started to show a drop in everything and started beeping. This would happen often. Usually if Josh and I put our fingers or hands on Hailey's tiny body and wiggled her around a bit and talked to her, she would 'snap' out of it and her vitals would return to normal. This time; however, she didn't better.
I watched Hailey's tiny chest for signs of breathing. I could see that the normal rhythm of it rising and falling was not there. And this is where I began to see that her apnea was not really 'forgetting' to breathe or her not realizing that she was supposed. Her entire body showed that she desperately wanted to breathe. Her apnea was really her wanting to breathe, but not knowing how. She wanted to, but she couldn’t.
I remember stepping back with Josh as the nurses began to attend to Hailey. She was losing color. She turned a sickly pale blue-purple color. I watched her little back arch off of the bed and her chest expand as far as possible as she struggled without success to breathe. The sight was almost unbearable. I was frozen in time watching her.
This memory, unfortunately, is still pretty vivid. I was watching my daughter dying, literally fighting with everything in her body to survive and breathe. This tiny, fragile, little baby... The fight in her was unmistakable. I felt like I had stopped breathing right along with her, holding my breath as I waited and hoped she would be able to take a breath. Not ready for her to be gone yet. Not in front of my eyes like this. This was the type of death I did not want for her. It was painful, it was ugly, it was anything but peaceful. I began saying quiet desperate prayers in my head - Not now God. Please don't take her yet. Help her breathe God...
The sight of my tiny, fragile, baby girl, her skin an unnatural color, almost purple, back arched, chest expanded, face scrunched, mouth open like she was trying to let out a screaming cry...but no sound...
Have you ever seen someone fight for their life? That day I did. I saw my baby fight for her life. There was nothing I could do. I was helpless. It was terrifying. A sight I would wish on no mother...
Thankfully the nurses resuscitated her ... I'm not sure of the medical terms for what they did - but they used an oxygen mask over her tiny face, and she took that breath she had been longing for, that I had been longing for for her. I let out my breath I had been holding. She was going to be okay... for now.
That day my daughter almost died. And it wasn’t the first time. I’ve never seen something fight so hard. I almost had expected that when she suffered from apnea and had a breathing attack, that it would be less of a violent fight. That her little body would just be lying there still as she slept and she would just stop breathing…that she would look lifeless almost… it was the exact opposite.
My daughter wanted to live. She fought hard for her life. She did this numerous times. Thankfully, God decided each of those times to spare her life and heal her breathing.
This wasn’t only me seeing my daughter fight death in front of my eyes. It was me seeing for the first time the true strength, determination, and courage she had, just days old. This was the time I realized how perfectly her name fit her – Hailey: courageous, heroine.
*****
Sometimes we turn to humor in difficult situations. Perhaps humor helps us get away from the grim seriousness in front of us. Like a survival mechanism. Maybe if we make light of the situation it would be less serious and difficult…maybe it gives us hope…maybe we just don’t know what else to do…
Hailey was not always the pink shade a new baby should be. There were many times in the NICU that she lost her pink color for various reasons – like when she’d have apnea. She was known to be shades of pink, red, purple, blue, white… We joked with her and each other saying that she had a talent for changing colors – our little chameleon. We told her that we didn’t like this talent of hers. I sometimes referred to her as our purple-people eater …ya know from that kid’s song – one horned, one eyed, flying purple-people eater….not sure why those song lyrics popped into my head when she turned purple…but we’d tell her that we didn’t want any purple-people eater so she needed to stop turning purple all the time. That usually worked. :)
So today I thought I'd blog a little more about our experience with Hailey in the NICU and Trisomy 18...
One of the health problems that most Trisomy 18 babies have is apnea - which basically means that they 'forget' to breathe. Since Hailey had full Trisomy 18, every cell of her body contained faulty data which made nearly everything difficult for her body to accomplish, made it impossible for her to grow and develop, etc. Hailey suffered from apnea while she was in the NICU. She didn't 'forget' to breathe, rather her body and the messages from her brain to tell her body to breathe did not always function correctly. I had a better understanding of what apnea was when I saw it firsthand.
The day after Hailey was born, I was discharged from the hospital and allowed to drive to Birmingham to see her (Josh was already there). When I first saw her there she had already undergone a surgery to place her intestines back inside of her stomach and some other procedures. Josh had witnessed some of Hailey's breathing problems before I had. I don't remember which day of being in the NICU it was when I saw Hailey's apnea, but it couldn't have been more than a day or two because at that point we still didn't know what was wrong with Hailey; we didn't know she had Trisomy 18. I was warned that Hailey had apnea by Josh and the doctors, and I had the basic idea of what would happen, but nothing prepared me for the attack I saw. I've never described this to anyone...
The screen that monitored and showed Hailey’s vitals started to show a drop in everything and started beeping. This would happen often. Usually if Josh and I put our fingers or hands on Hailey's tiny body and wiggled her around a bit and talked to her, she would 'snap' out of it and her vitals would return to normal. This time; however, she didn't better.
I watched Hailey's tiny chest for signs of breathing. I could see that the normal rhythm of it rising and falling was not there. And this is where I began to see that her apnea was not really 'forgetting' to breathe or her not realizing that she was supposed. Her entire body showed that she desperately wanted to breathe. Her apnea was really her wanting to breathe, but not knowing how. She wanted to, but she couldn’t.
I remember stepping back with Josh as the nurses began to attend to Hailey. She was losing color. She turned a sickly pale blue-purple color. I watched her little back arch off of the bed and her chest expand as far as possible as she struggled without success to breathe. The sight was almost unbearable. I was frozen in time watching her.
This memory, unfortunately, is still pretty vivid. I was watching my daughter dying, literally fighting with everything in her body to survive and breathe. This tiny, fragile, little baby... The fight in her was unmistakable. I felt like I had stopped breathing right along with her, holding my breath as I waited and hoped she would be able to take a breath. Not ready for her to be gone yet. Not in front of my eyes like this. This was the type of death I did not want for her. It was painful, it was ugly, it was anything but peaceful. I began saying quiet desperate prayers in my head - Not now God. Please don't take her yet. Help her breathe God...
The sight of my tiny, fragile, baby girl, her skin an unnatural color, almost purple, back arched, chest expanded, face scrunched, mouth open like she was trying to let out a screaming cry...but no sound...
Have you ever seen someone fight for their life? That day I did. I saw my baby fight for her life. There was nothing I could do. I was helpless. It was terrifying. A sight I would wish on no mother...
Thankfully the nurses resuscitated her ... I'm not sure of the medical terms for what they did - but they used an oxygen mask over her tiny face, and she took that breath she had been longing for, that I had been longing for for her. I let out my breath I had been holding. She was going to be okay... for now.
That day my daughter almost died. And it wasn’t the first time. I’ve never seen something fight so hard. I almost had expected that when she suffered from apnea and had a breathing attack, that it would be less of a violent fight. That her little body would just be lying there still as she slept and she would just stop breathing…that she would look lifeless almost… it was the exact opposite.
My daughter wanted to live. She fought hard for her life. She did this numerous times. Thankfully, God decided each of those times to spare her life and heal her breathing.
This wasn’t only me seeing my daughter fight death in front of my eyes. It was me seeing for the first time the true strength, determination, and courage she had, just days old. This was the time I realized how perfectly her name fit her – Hailey: courageous, heroine.
*****
Sometimes we turn to humor in difficult situations. Perhaps humor helps us get away from the grim seriousness in front of us. Like a survival mechanism. Maybe if we make light of the situation it would be less serious and difficult…maybe it gives us hope…maybe we just don’t know what else to do…
Hailey was not always the pink shade a new baby should be. There were many times in the NICU that she lost her pink color for various reasons – like when she’d have apnea. She was known to be shades of pink, red, purple, blue, white… We joked with her and each other saying that she had a talent for changing colors – our little chameleon. We told her that we didn’t like this talent of hers. I sometimes referred to her as our purple-people eater …ya know from that kid’s song – one horned, one eyed, flying purple-people eater….not sure why those song lyrics popped into my head when she turned purple…but we’d tell her that we didn’t want any purple-people eater so she needed to stop turning purple all the time. That usually worked. :)
Thursday, February 11, 2010
36 days long, 36 days gone
Hailey beat the odds when she lived for 36 days. Statistically speaking, she wasn't supposed to make it full term, she wasn't supposed to survive birth, and she wasn't supposed to live for more than 5-15 days. But she lived for a miraculous 36 days. January 6, 2010 marked her 36 day of life, her last day of life, because Jesus called her home.
Today marks 36 days without Hailey. She has been in Heaven for 36 days.
Here for 36 days, gone for 36 days...I'm not sure what to make of it.
Tomorrow I will have spent more days without her than days spent with her. From the beginning, I have always dreaded tomorrow... but I will not go there today. After all, do not worry about tomorrow because today has enough troubles of its own right?
36 days long, now 36 days gone. Time is flying by. It literally feels like her life and her death each happened in the blink of an eye...
So today, I will just try to keep my heart and mind focused on her miraculous life.
Today marks 36 days without Hailey. She has been in Heaven for 36 days.
Here for 36 days, gone for 36 days...I'm not sure what to make of it.
Tomorrow I will have spent more days without her than days spent with her. From the beginning, I have always dreaded tomorrow... but I will not go there today. After all, do not worry about tomorrow because today has enough troubles of its own right?
36 days long, now 36 days gone. Time is flying by. It literally feels like her life and her death each happened in the blink of an eye...
So today, I will just try to keep my heart and mind focused on her miraculous life.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
**New Blog Location**
My blog has moved. You can now follow me at: thevlips.wordpress.com
I have decided to change the location of my blog due to the many limitations and frustrations associated with blogger.
I have imported my blog to this new location on wordpress, which means all of my old posts will be there for you and me to enjoy. Wordpress will allow me to do much more with my blog.
Hopefully this will be the only change of location for my blog so that I don't confuse too many people or lose any followers.
Please note the change and update and shre the new URL so that you and others can keep on following me!
This will be the last post I write on here.
I have decided to change the location of my blog due to the many limitations and frustrations associated with blogger.
I have imported my blog to this new location on wordpress, which means all of my old posts will be there for you and me to enjoy. Wordpress will allow me to do much more with my blog.
Hopefully this will be the only change of location for my blog so that I don't confuse too many people or lose any followers.
Please note the change and update and shre the new URL so that you and others can keep on following me!
This will be the last post I write on here.
First post on new site
Due to the many limitations and frustrations associated with blogger - the host site of my last blog -
thevlips.blogspot.com
I have imported my blog to this new location on wordpress, which means all of my old posts are here for you and me to enjoy. Wordpress will allow me to do much more with my blog.
Hopefully this will be the only change of location for my blog so that I don't confuse too many people or lose any followers. Please share my new blog URL with others.
thevlips.blogspot.com
I have imported my blog to this new location on wordpress, which means all of my old posts are here for you and me to enjoy. Wordpress will allow me to do much more with my blog.
Hopefully this will be the only change of location for my blog so that I don't confuse too many people or lose any followers. Please share my new blog URL with others.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Letting go of desperately reaching
I really have to say that I appreciated C.S. Lewis's book A Grief Observed a lot. As I read his journal entries recording his experience with his grief, I found that much of his thoughts and feelings were my own...as his changed, my changed too...I found myself relating to his experience of grief most of the time.
As I mention often in my posts, one of the hardest things about losing Hailey - is the "losing" part. I don't want to feel like she's lost. I don't want to forget her. I fear forgetting her, not being able to remember, and so on. I mentioned something Lewis shared in his book that I have experienced too which is how pictures of our loved ones who have passed away function in our lives. I am so thankful for the pictures and video I have of Hailey - they do help me remember her at times. But at the same time, they are sometimes a "block" to who Hailey really was. A picture cannot capture Hailey as I truly knew her. A video comes close, but it doesn't capture everything about her, her smell, her touch, etc. Those pictures and videos can actually impede on our memory of the person. Because after all, they are not the person.
Sometimes I find myself desperately searching for a particular memory of Hailey. I frantically search and search and everything in my mind is a blur, a fog. I feel a sense of panic when this happens. Fear. Frustration. Anger. Could I have forgotten the sound of her cry already? Could I have forgotten what her eyes looked like when she took a bottle? I panic. I try to reach out and grasp it like it's almost there... and it's always almost there...but not quit within reach.
Lewis observed this in his grief, and I am experiencing this too: when you let go, when you stop trying desperately to remember... a funny thing kind of happens. God seems to bless you every now and then with an incredibly vivid memory of something. This has happened with me and Hailey. I didn't let go on purpose necessarily. I more or less had reached a point of exhaustion and gave up trying to grasp onto the Hailey that I knew here. And then, to my surprise, every now and then, I get a snippet of something very clear.
Not always. And I can't 'make it' happen. It's not like I choose to go 24 hrs without thinking of Hailey and then decide suddenly I want to remember what she smelled like and expect it to happen instantaneously...it's not that at all. I think of her all the time still, I just don't expect life to be like she's here again. I don't think of her and expect to have the vividness, the realness back... yes I want it, but I don't expect it anymore...because when I expect it, that's when I don't get it and can't grasp it.
So in letting go, whatever the intentions were behind it, God has allowed me to have a few brief moments of good memories...they'll never be like 100% as they were when she was with us, but they'll be close. I'll take a few moments of quality remembrance over frequent moments of blurred, desperate attempts at remembrance.
Remembering is still frustrating at times. Because there are of course still times where I desperately try to remember...but my mind and heart are in a better place I guess now. I've accepted that I can never be satisfied in my memory of her. Because the only way I can have 100% satisfaction - would be if she were still here. And she's not. And I accept that.
As I mention often in my posts, one of the hardest things about losing Hailey - is the "losing" part. I don't want to feel like she's lost. I don't want to forget her. I fear forgetting her, not being able to remember, and so on. I mentioned something Lewis shared in his book that I have experienced too which is how pictures of our loved ones who have passed away function in our lives. I am so thankful for the pictures and video I have of Hailey - they do help me remember her at times. But at the same time, they are sometimes a "block" to who Hailey really was. A picture cannot capture Hailey as I truly knew her. A video comes close, but it doesn't capture everything about her, her smell, her touch, etc. Those pictures and videos can actually impede on our memory of the person. Because after all, they are not the person.
Sometimes I find myself desperately searching for a particular memory of Hailey. I frantically search and search and everything in my mind is a blur, a fog. I feel a sense of panic when this happens. Fear. Frustration. Anger. Could I have forgotten the sound of her cry already? Could I have forgotten what her eyes looked like when she took a bottle? I panic. I try to reach out and grasp it like it's almost there... and it's always almost there...but not quit within reach.
Lewis observed this in his grief, and I am experiencing this too: when you let go, when you stop trying desperately to remember... a funny thing kind of happens. God seems to bless you every now and then with an incredibly vivid memory of something. This has happened with me and Hailey. I didn't let go on purpose necessarily. I more or less had reached a point of exhaustion and gave up trying to grasp onto the Hailey that I knew here. And then, to my surprise, every now and then, I get a snippet of something very clear.
Not always. And I can't 'make it' happen. It's not like I choose to go 24 hrs without thinking of Hailey and then decide suddenly I want to remember what she smelled like and expect it to happen instantaneously...it's not that at all. I think of her all the time still, I just don't expect life to be like she's here again. I don't think of her and expect to have the vividness, the realness back... yes I want it, but I don't expect it anymore...because when I expect it, that's when I don't get it and can't grasp it.
So in letting go, whatever the intentions were behind it, God has allowed me to have a few brief moments of good memories...they'll never be like 100% as they were when she was with us, but they'll be close. I'll take a few moments of quality remembrance over frequent moments of blurred, desperate attempts at remembrance.
Remembering is still frustrating at times. Because there are of course still times where I desperately try to remember...but my mind and heart are in a better place I guess now. I've accepted that I can never be satisfied in my memory of her. Because the only way I can have 100% satisfaction - would be if she were still here. And she's not. And I accept that.
Letting go of desperately reaching
I really have to say that I appreciated C.S. Lewis's book A Grief Observed a lot. As I read his journal entries recording his experience with his grief, I found that much of his thoughts and feelings were my own...as his changed, my changed too...I found myself relating to his experience of grief most of the time.
As I mention often in my posts, one of the hardest things about losing Hailey - is the "losing" part. I don't want to feel like she's lost. I don't want to forget her. I fear forgetting her, not being able to remember, and so on. I mentioned something Lewis shared in his book that I have experienced too which is how pictures of our loved ones who have passed away function in our lives. I am so thankful for the pictures and video I have of Hailey - they do help me remember her at times. But at the same time, they are sometimes a "block" to who Hailey really was. A picture cannot capture Hailey as I truly knew her. A video comes close, but it doesn't capture everything about her, her smell, her touch, etc. Those pictures and videos can actually impede on our memory of the person. Because after all, they are not the person.
Sometimes I find myself desperately searching for a particular memory of Hailey. I frantically search and search and everything in my mind is a blur, a fog. I feel a sense of panic when this happens. Fear. Frustration. Anger. Could I have forgotten the sound of her cry already? Could I have forgotten what her eyes looked like when she took a bottle? I panic. I try to reach out and grasp it like it's almost there... and it's always almost there...but not quit within reach.
Lewis observed this in his grief, and I am experiencing this too: when you let go, when you stop trying desperately to remember... a funny thing kind of happens. God seems to bless you every now and then with an incredibly vivid memory of something. This has happened with me and Hailey. I didn't let go on purpose necessarily. I more or less had reached a point of exhaustion and gave up trying to grasp onto the Hailey that I knew here. And then, to my surprise, every now and then, I get a snippet of something very clear.
Not always. And I can't 'make it' happen. It's not like I choose to go 24 hrs without thinking of Hailey and then decide suddenly I want to remember what she smelled like and expect it to happen instantaneously...it's not that at all. I think of her all the time still, I just don't expect life to be like she's here again. I don't think of her and expect to have the vividness, the realness back... yes I want it, but I don't expect it anymore...because when I expect it, that's when I don't get it and can't grasp it.
So in letting go, whatever the intentions were behind it, God has allowed me to have a few brief moments of good memories...they'll never be like 100% as they were when she was with us, but they'll be close. I'll take a few moments of quality remembrance over frequent moments of blurred, desperate attempts at remembrance.
Remembering is still frustrating at times. Because there are of course still times where I desperately try to remember...but my mind and heart are in a better place I guess now. I've accepted that I can never be satisfied in my memory of her. Because the only way I can have 100% satisfaction - would be if she were still here. And she's not. And I accept that.
As I mention often in my posts, one of the hardest things about losing Hailey - is the "losing" part. I don't want to feel like she's lost. I don't want to forget her. I fear forgetting her, not being able to remember, and so on. I mentioned something Lewis shared in his book that I have experienced too which is how pictures of our loved ones who have passed away function in our lives. I am so thankful for the pictures and video I have of Hailey - they do help me remember her at times. But at the same time, they are sometimes a "block" to who Hailey really was. A picture cannot capture Hailey as I truly knew her. A video comes close, but it doesn't capture everything about her, her smell, her touch, etc. Those pictures and videos can actually impede on our memory of the person. Because after all, they are not the person.
Sometimes I find myself desperately searching for a particular memory of Hailey. I frantically search and search and everything in my mind is a blur, a fog. I feel a sense of panic when this happens. Fear. Frustration. Anger. Could I have forgotten the sound of her cry already? Could I have forgotten what her eyes looked like when she took a bottle? I panic. I try to reach out and grasp it like it's almost there... and it's always almost there...but not quit within reach.
Lewis observed this in his grief, and I am experiencing this too: when you let go, when you stop trying desperately to remember... a funny thing kind of happens. God seems to bless you every now and then with an incredibly vivid memory of something. This has happened with me and Hailey. I didn't let go on purpose necessarily. I more or less had reached a point of exhaustion and gave up trying to grasp onto the Hailey that I knew here. And then, to my surprise, every now and then, I get a snippet of something very clear.
Not always. And I can't 'make it' happen. It's not like I choose to go 24 hrs without thinking of Hailey and then decide suddenly I want to remember what she smelled like and expect it to happen instantaneously...it's not that at all. I think of her all the time still, I just don't expect life to be like she's here again. I don't think of her and expect to have the vividness, the realness back... yes I want it, but I don't expect it anymore...because when I expect it, that's when I don't get it and can't grasp it.
So in letting go, whatever the intentions were behind it, God has allowed me to have a few brief moments of good memories...they'll never be like 100% as they were when she was with us, but they'll be close. I'll take a few moments of quality remembrance over frequent moments of blurred, desperate attempts at remembrance.
Remembering is still frustrating at times. Because there are of course still times where I desperately try to remember...but my mind and heart are in a better place I guess now. I've accepted that I can never be satisfied in my memory of her. Because the only way I can have 100% satisfaction - would be if she were still here. And she's not. And I accept that.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Random musings...mostly about my guilt-complex
Well since my last post, I have actually had a couple of 'good' days in a row. Getting out of bed hasn't been so hard. I've managed to do several things I enjoy and have some fun. Unfortunately, having fun still comes with a guilt-complex for me. I wonder if/ when that will ever go away...
So I'll share something kind of random. I usually like to keep my toes and finger nails painted. My toes are usually painted 99% of the time - fingers not as often because they chip so much faster. But anyway, I am one who enjoys that part of 'my look.' However, I have not had my toes and nails painted since before I was very round with Hailey. While I was pregnant it just wasn't possible for me to reach my toes. After we had Hailey, it wasn't really high on my list of things to do - didn't have much time - and when I did have time to myself I wasn't interested in painting them. It's been over a month now since Hailey has passed and since then I have painted my nails once. Pink. For her memorial service. Toes, still nothing. What's keeping me? Honestly, my guilt-complex. I honestly cannot bring myself to paint my fingers or my toes. Weird right? Probably not a good thing either...
I suffer with this thing where I feel guilty now doing anything for 'me'. I'm pretty sure I mentioned this in an earlier post, but when we had Hailey I longed to do things for myself that I had enjoyed - I was quite selfish. I remember the times I had someone else hold her so I could read a book instead. Oh how I long to go back in time and change that. To get rid of all of my selfishness... But I can't. I was selfish a lot while taking care of Hailey... probably no more selfish than the average new mom... but it doesn't make a difference...So now, whenever I find myself doing something 'fun' that I would not have been able to do with a newborn around or anything to 'pamper' myself... I feel guilty NOW since I had wanted to do those things instead of spend time with Hailey. I feel that in some ways I'm punishing myself for the selfishness I had had... I know it's not a good thing and probably not what God wants for me to be doing... I'll try to work through it... but I'm not going to lie, part of me would rather punish myself and not have fun, etc. if that meant fixing the past selfishness I had with Hailey... :/
I know a lot of these thoughts/feelings are pretty 'silly' ... but they're there. There's always a twinge of guilt somewhere. But maybe I'll paint my nails for Valentine's Day - I need to do it sometime and what better time than that?
But selfishness is really something I'm struggling to deal with - selfishness in the past and in the present. I feel like even in dealing with Hailey's death, I'm still being selfish. I make it all about me. It's like my last post... I must think of her more, and myself less.
So tonight was the reunion night for our lamaze class - you know, the night that everyone comes back and brings their baby to show off. Well, obviously we didn't go... And I don't think anyone in our class will even know anything about Hailey... but it is what it is I guess. I can't do anything about it. I'm not sure what else to say about not being able to go tonight. It sucks. A lot. I mean, obviously we could have gone and shared about Hailey. But there is no way I could have handled that. Seeing everyone's babies while only having a picture of ours. Their babies would have been there, alive and well, our baby would be an image on a piece of paper... I wouldn't have been able to handle it emotionally. It would have hurt too bad being there. It hurts not being there, but not as bad as I thought it would be and not as bad as if we had gone... I guess that's probably because today is a 'good' day so far.
C.S. Lewis writes later in A Grief Observed that grief is more like suspense. It is for me now. I now anxiously wait for the moment that the grief will return and hit hard again... It will come. It always does. I hate that the one thing I've figured out is that I can't figure out when it's going to be the paralyzing hurt or the slight emptiness in my heart that's always there.
Tonight I went to an exercise class with a friend and the instructor said something at the beginning of class that we've all heard before, but hit home with me tonight. I spend a lot of time worrying and fearing for my future...what will my grief look like tomorrow? in a week? in a couple of months? a year? will the pain be just as bad years from now? how will I live without Hailey - what is that going to look like? how will I get through this? But God tells us, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" Matthew 6:34. ...and as I'm writing this, I'm remembering that this verse was actually referred to in our pastor's message this past Sunday... hmm...I think I heard you God. :)
So I guess my 'take away' from all of this is that I need to basically just stop. Be still. stop worrying about my future. live in the present.
...it's kind of funny...we almost bought Hailey a onesie to wear that had a present on it and said 'live in the present' because it was so fitting for her life... I guess that still holds true even now.
Oh Hailey Marie... you have taught me so much. I can't wait to have the time to write the post I've been longing to write ... about what you've taught me and others... We know that God's love reaches to the Heavens (Pslam 36:5) ... but so does ours for you. Praying that you know our love for you even though you're in Heaven and we're here without you. love you soooooo much munchy-kin.
So I'll share something kind of random. I usually like to keep my toes and finger nails painted. My toes are usually painted 99% of the time - fingers not as often because they chip so much faster. But anyway, I am one who enjoys that part of 'my look.' However, I have not had my toes and nails painted since before I was very round with Hailey. While I was pregnant it just wasn't possible for me to reach my toes. After we had Hailey, it wasn't really high on my list of things to do - didn't have much time - and when I did have time to myself I wasn't interested in painting them. It's been over a month now since Hailey has passed and since then I have painted my nails once. Pink. For her memorial service. Toes, still nothing. What's keeping me? Honestly, my guilt-complex. I honestly cannot bring myself to paint my fingers or my toes. Weird right? Probably not a good thing either...
I suffer with this thing where I feel guilty now doing anything for 'me'. I'm pretty sure I mentioned this in an earlier post, but when we had Hailey I longed to do things for myself that I had enjoyed - I was quite selfish. I remember the times I had someone else hold her so I could read a book instead. Oh how I long to go back in time and change that. To get rid of all of my selfishness... But I can't. I was selfish a lot while taking care of Hailey... probably no more selfish than the average new mom... but it doesn't make a difference...So now, whenever I find myself doing something 'fun' that I would not have been able to do with a newborn around or anything to 'pamper' myself... I feel guilty NOW since I had wanted to do those things instead of spend time with Hailey. I feel that in some ways I'm punishing myself for the selfishness I had had... I know it's not a good thing and probably not what God wants for me to be doing... I'll try to work through it... but I'm not going to lie, part of me would rather punish myself and not have fun, etc. if that meant fixing the past selfishness I had with Hailey... :/
I know a lot of these thoughts/feelings are pretty 'silly' ... but they're there. There's always a twinge of guilt somewhere. But maybe I'll paint my nails for Valentine's Day - I need to do it sometime and what better time than that?
But selfishness is really something I'm struggling to deal with - selfishness in the past and in the present. I feel like even in dealing with Hailey's death, I'm still being selfish. I make it all about me. It's like my last post... I must think of her more, and myself less.
So tonight was the reunion night for our lamaze class - you know, the night that everyone comes back and brings their baby to show off. Well, obviously we didn't go... And I don't think anyone in our class will even know anything about Hailey... but it is what it is I guess. I can't do anything about it. I'm not sure what else to say about not being able to go tonight. It sucks. A lot. I mean, obviously we could have gone and shared about Hailey. But there is no way I could have handled that. Seeing everyone's babies while only having a picture of ours. Their babies would have been there, alive and well, our baby would be an image on a piece of paper... I wouldn't have been able to handle it emotionally. It would have hurt too bad being there. It hurts not being there, but not as bad as I thought it would be and not as bad as if we had gone... I guess that's probably because today is a 'good' day so far.
C.S. Lewis writes later in A Grief Observed that grief is more like suspense. It is for me now. I now anxiously wait for the moment that the grief will return and hit hard again... It will come. It always does. I hate that the one thing I've figured out is that I can't figure out when it's going to be the paralyzing hurt or the slight emptiness in my heart that's always there.
Tonight I went to an exercise class with a friend and the instructor said something at the beginning of class that we've all heard before, but hit home with me tonight. I spend a lot of time worrying and fearing for my future...what will my grief look like tomorrow? in a week? in a couple of months? a year? will the pain be just as bad years from now? how will I live without Hailey - what is that going to look like? how will I get through this? But God tells us, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" Matthew 6:34. ...and as I'm writing this, I'm remembering that this verse was actually referred to in our pastor's message this past Sunday... hmm...I think I heard you God. :)
So I guess my 'take away' from all of this is that I need to basically just stop. Be still. stop worrying about my future. live in the present.
...it's kind of funny...we almost bought Hailey a onesie to wear that had a present on it and said 'live in the present' because it was so fitting for her life... I guess that still holds true even now.
Oh Hailey Marie... you have taught me so much. I can't wait to have the time to write the post I've been longing to write ... about what you've taught me and others... We know that God's love reaches to the Heavens (Pslam 36:5) ... but so does ours for you. Praying that you know our love for you even though you're in Heaven and we're here without you. love you soooooo much munchy-kin.
Random musings...mostly about my guilt-complex
Well since my last post, I have actually had a couple of 'good' days in a row. Getting out of bed hasn't been so hard. I've managed to do several things I enjoy and have some fun. Unfortunately, having fun still comes with a guilt-complex for me. I wonder if/ when that will ever go away...
So I'll share something kind of random. I usually like to keep my toes and finger nails painted. My toes are usually painted 99% of the time - fingers not as often because they chip so much faster. But anyway, I am one who enjoys that part of 'my look.' However, I have not had my toes and nails painted since before I was very round with Hailey. While I was pregnant it just wasn't possible for me to reach my toes. After we had Hailey, it wasn't really high on my list of things to do - didn't have much time - and when I did have time to myself I wasn't interested in painting them. It's been over a month now since Hailey has passed and since then I have painted my nails once. Pink. For her memorial service. Toes, still nothing. What's keeping me? Honestly, my guilt-complex. I honestly cannot bring myself to paint my fingers or my toes. Weird right? Probably not a good thing either...
I suffer with this thing where I feel guilty now doing anything for 'me'. I'm pretty sure I mentioned this in an earlier post, but when we had Hailey I longed to do things for myself that I had enjoyed - I was quite selfish. I remember the times I had someone else hold her so I could read a book instead. Oh how I long to go back in time and change that. To get rid of all of my selfishness... But I can't. I was selfish a lot while taking care of Hailey... probably no more selfish than the average new mom... but it doesn't make a difference...So now, whenever I find myself doing something 'fun' that I would not have been able to do with a newborn around or anything to 'pamper' myself... I feel guilty NOW since I had wanted to do those things instead of spend time with Hailey. I feel that in some ways I'm punishing myself for the selfishness I had had... I know it's not a good thing and probably not what God wants for me to be doing... I'll try to work through it... but I'm not going to lie, part of me would rather punish myself and not have fun, etc. if that meant fixing the past selfishness I had with Hailey... :/
I know a lot of these thoughts/feelings are pretty 'silly' ... but they're there. There's always a twinge of guilt somewhere. But maybe I'll paint my nails for Valentine's Day - I need to do it sometime and what better time than that?
But selfishness is really something I'm struggling to deal with - selfishness in the past and in the present. I feel like even in dealing with Hailey's death, I'm still being selfish. I make it all about me. It's like my last post... I must think of her more, and myself less.
So tonight was the reunion night for our lamaze class - you know, the night that everyone comes back and brings their baby to show off. Well, obviously we didn't go... And I don't think anyone in our class will even know anything about Hailey... but it is what it is I guess. I can't do anything about it. I'm not sure what else to say about not being able to go tonight. It sucks. A lot. I mean, obviously we could have gone and shared about Hailey. But there is no way I could have handled that. Seeing everyone's babies while only having a picture of ours. Their babies would have been there, alive and well, our baby would be an image on a piece of paper... I wouldn't have been able to handle it emotionally. It would have hurt too bad being there. It hurts not being there, but not as bad as I thought it would be and not as bad as if we had gone... I guess that's probably because today is a 'good' day so far.
C.S. Lewis writes later in A Grief Observed that grief is more like suspense. It is for me now. I now anxiously wait for the moment that the grief will return and hit hard again... It will come. It always does. I hate that the one thing I've figured out is that I can't figure out when it's going to be the paralyzing hurt or the slight emptiness in my heart that's always there.
Tonight I went to an exercise class with a friend and the instructor said something at the beginning of class that we've all heard before, but hit home with me tonight. I spend a lot of time worrying and fearing for my future...what will my grief look like tomorrow? in a week? in a couple of months? a year? will the pain be just as bad years from now? how will I live without Hailey - what is that going to look like? how will I get through this? But God tells us, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" Matthew 6:34. ...and as I'm writing this, I'm remembering that this verse was actually referred to in our pastor's message this past Sunday... hmm...I think I heard you God. :)
So I guess my 'take away' from all of this is that I need to basically just stop. Be still. stop worrying about my future. live in the present.
...it's kind of funny...we almost bought Hailey a onesie to wear that had a present on it and said 'live in the present' because it was so fitting for her life... I guess that still holds true even now.
Oh Hailey Marie... you have taught me so much. I can't wait to have the time to write the post I've been longing to write ... about what you've taught me and others... We know that God's love reaches to the Heavens (Pslam 36:5) ... but so does ours for you. Praying that you know our love for you even though you're in Heaven and we're here without you. love you soooooo much munchy-kin.
So I'll share something kind of random. I usually like to keep my toes and finger nails painted. My toes are usually painted 99% of the time - fingers not as often because they chip so much faster. But anyway, I am one who enjoys that part of 'my look.' However, I have not had my toes and nails painted since before I was very round with Hailey. While I was pregnant it just wasn't possible for me to reach my toes. After we had Hailey, it wasn't really high on my list of things to do - didn't have much time - and when I did have time to myself I wasn't interested in painting them. It's been over a month now since Hailey has passed and since then I have painted my nails once. Pink. For her memorial service. Toes, still nothing. What's keeping me? Honestly, my guilt-complex. I honestly cannot bring myself to paint my fingers or my toes. Weird right? Probably not a good thing either...
I suffer with this thing where I feel guilty now doing anything for 'me'. I'm pretty sure I mentioned this in an earlier post, but when we had Hailey I longed to do things for myself that I had enjoyed - I was quite selfish. I remember the times I had someone else hold her so I could read a book instead. Oh how I long to go back in time and change that. To get rid of all of my selfishness... But I can't. I was selfish a lot while taking care of Hailey... probably no more selfish than the average new mom... but it doesn't make a difference...So now, whenever I find myself doing something 'fun' that I would not have been able to do with a newborn around or anything to 'pamper' myself... I feel guilty NOW since I had wanted to do those things instead of spend time with Hailey. I feel that in some ways I'm punishing myself for the selfishness I had had... I know it's not a good thing and probably not what God wants for me to be doing... I'll try to work through it... but I'm not going to lie, part of me would rather punish myself and not have fun, etc. if that meant fixing the past selfishness I had with Hailey... :/
I know a lot of these thoughts/feelings are pretty 'silly' ... but they're there. There's always a twinge of guilt somewhere. But maybe I'll paint my nails for Valentine's Day - I need to do it sometime and what better time than that?
But selfishness is really something I'm struggling to deal with - selfishness in the past and in the present. I feel like even in dealing with Hailey's death, I'm still being selfish. I make it all about me. It's like my last post... I must think of her more, and myself less.
So tonight was the reunion night for our lamaze class - you know, the night that everyone comes back and brings their baby to show off. Well, obviously we didn't go... And I don't think anyone in our class will even know anything about Hailey... but it is what it is I guess. I can't do anything about it. I'm not sure what else to say about not being able to go tonight. It sucks. A lot. I mean, obviously we could have gone and shared about Hailey. But there is no way I could have handled that. Seeing everyone's babies while only having a picture of ours. Their babies would have been there, alive and well, our baby would be an image on a piece of paper... I wouldn't have been able to handle it emotionally. It would have hurt too bad being there. It hurts not being there, but not as bad as I thought it would be and not as bad as if we had gone... I guess that's probably because today is a 'good' day so far.
C.S. Lewis writes later in A Grief Observed that grief is more like suspense. It is for me now. I now anxiously wait for the moment that the grief will return and hit hard again... It will come. It always does. I hate that the one thing I've figured out is that I can't figure out when it's going to be the paralyzing hurt or the slight emptiness in my heart that's always there.
Tonight I went to an exercise class with a friend and the instructor said something at the beginning of class that we've all heard before, but hit home with me tonight. I spend a lot of time worrying and fearing for my future...what will my grief look like tomorrow? in a week? in a couple of months? a year? will the pain be just as bad years from now? how will I live without Hailey - what is that going to look like? how will I get through this? But God tells us, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" Matthew 6:34. ...and as I'm writing this, I'm remembering that this verse was actually referred to in our pastor's message this past Sunday... hmm...I think I heard you God. :)
So I guess my 'take away' from all of this is that I need to basically just stop. Be still. stop worrying about my future. live in the present.
...it's kind of funny...we almost bought Hailey a onesie to wear that had a present on it and said 'live in the present' because it was so fitting for her life... I guess that still holds true even now.
Oh Hailey Marie... you have taught me so much. I can't wait to have the time to write the post I've been longing to write ... about what you've taught me and others... We know that God's love reaches to the Heavens (Pslam 36:5) ... but so does ours for you. Praying that you know our love for you even though you're in Heaven and we're here without you. love you soooooo much munchy-kin.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
1 month in Heaven...My Grief Observed
One month ago today Hailey passed away. I miss her more and more every day. I didn't know it was possible to miss her more than I do, but I guess it is because every day gets harder.
This past month has been more than just a roller coaster ride, more than my life being turned upside down, more than a tornado ripping it apart ... it's been overwhelming. I hit extreme highs in joy and extreme lows in sorrow - sometimes hitting both extremes multiple times in a day...sometimes one extreme lasting a day or two only to be followed by a day or two of the other extreme.
I didn't now what grief would be like. You can always imagine but can never be prepared. I had lost grandparents and other relatives over the years, and of course their passings were difficult. But nothing compares to the grief I feel over Hailey... my dad comes close, but for some reason grieving the loss of my own child is the most painful.
Even being prepared for Hailey's death before it came did not make this process any easier. It's still terrible. It's terrible, and it's awful. I began to mourn her before she passed away. I was scared of what life would be like without her and how I'd handle it... or not handle it. Nothing, not even the sadness I felt when she was alive, could have prepared me for this process of dealing with her death.
I started reading C.S. Lewis's book A Grief Observed in which he observes his own grief with the loss of his wife. In the first passage of the book he writes, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing." When I read those words, I was kind of taken aback. He was right. It did and does feel similar to fear. And unlike Lewis, for me, sometimes, I am afraid. I am afraid of this new life I have without Hailey. I am afraid I won't make it through the day. I am afraid of depression.
When I started this blog I told myself that I wanted to be honest in my thoughts and feelings regardless of whether they were 'correct' or 'right' or not, so I will continue to do that. Today I want to share about my grief. I know, not the most positive and encouraging thing for you to be reading, but I need to do it for me.
The morning Hailey passed away I was in a deep, peaceful sleep. I awoke to Josh lightly shaking me and telling me I needed to wake up. In my sleepy state I became aware that something wasn't right. It wasn't time for me to wake up yet. I looked in my husband's face trying to wake up and figure out what was wrong. He just kept telling me I needed to come see Hailey, and I could see the tears in his eyes. My heart literally dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I asked what was wrong...is she okay? is she gone? He just kept telling me quietly to come see Hailey. I started crying. A soft cry. I knew. He didn't have to say it. I knew. I went to her. She didn't have her oxygen in her nose. She didn't need it. She wasn't breathing. She was lying there swaddled tightly in her blankie looking as beautiful and as peaceful as ever. I stupidly asked, "Can I hold her?" The entire time I had quiet tears streaming down my cheeks. I picked her up and held her close. I kissed her forehead. Her soft skin was still warm against my lips.
I won't go much more into detail about that morning. But I will say, it wasn't what I had expected. Not that I knew what to expect. The quietness of it all. The almost peacefulness in it. Before Hailey passed I had wondered what it would be like when she did. Would it be painful? Would it be ugly? Would it be peaceful? What would I do? I had thought that I might go hysterical or throw up when it happened. I really thought that was going to be my reaction. But when the time came, it wasn't. My reaction was quiet. My tears were there. But it wasn't hysterical crying, it was soft sobs, soft streams of tears trickling down my face. It was all much more quiet, and slower than I had imagined. When I tried to envision it I didn't know if I'd want to hold her or touch her lifeless body. But when it did happen, I had to hold her. One last time. And the hardest part was letting her go and see her carried out the front door of house. She would never come back. Not having her in my arms was the hard part. Is the hard part. Even after she had been taken, the day was very strange. Again, very quiet. I didn't now what to do with myself. There were lots of tears and lots of hugs. But it was almost like my body was in survival mode again like it was immediately after I gave birth to Hailey and we learned she was very sick. Survival. It's like your body goes through the motions and does what it needs to do and the mind, almost incapacitated, is along for the ride.
The next couple of weeks were so busy that my mind barely had time to wrap itself around what was happening. God gave me supernatural strength that carried me through her memorial service. I was strong (for the most part) and no one expected me to be. I felt like I had to be strong for everyone else. And I did feel strong. I wasn't faking it. I remembering sitting in front of Hailey's casket outside at her burial. It was cold, and they put a blanket on my lap. Josh sat next to me with his arm around me. Our family behind us. A tiny casket in front of us. I remember crying and sitting there the entire time and even thinking then that it felt like an out of body experience. It was so odd. I couldn't wrap myself and my mind around what was happening. It was happening whether I was ready or not.
Everything that happened following Hailey's death is like a whirlwind. We were away from our home in Alabama. We were busy every day visiting with family and friends. And things with my dad were becoming worse and worse. Eventually my mind and heart shifted focus to my dad who eventually lost his battle with cancer. My grief for Hailey at times got put on pause.
In the first couple of weeks after Hailey's passing, I had tremendous strength. The grief was there. But I was strong in it. I found joy in it. I found hope in it. Those weeks and days were amazing. God allowed me to mourn Hailey but His comfort and peace He gave me were so overwhelming. There were good days and bad days, but I got through them all. I saw the light amidst the darkness.
However, this past week, my grief is no longer the same. Things are settling down. We're getting into a routine again here in Alabama. And my grief has a different face now. I didn't expect that. I thought it would continue as it had.
Earlier this week I bought a bunch of frames and printed off a bunch of my favorite pictures of Hailey and we put them up in the house. I thoroughly enjoyed doing that. Those first couple of days were good. And I'm glad I have them up and around the house... but I'll share something that C.S. Lewis wrote that I completely relate to:
"I have no photograph of her that's any good. I cannot even see her face distinctly in my imagination. Yet the odd face of some stranger seen in a crowd this morning may come before me in vivid perfection the moment I close my eyes tonight...We have seen the faces of those we know best so variously, from so many angles, in so many lights, with so many expressions...that all the impressions crowd into our memory together and cancel out into a mere blur." It's frustrating at times.
If I had to pick a moment that changed the course of my grief, I would have to say it was the day I went grocery shopping at the commissary on post. The number of new moms with their babies was too much for me. It was unexpected. Everywhere I turned was a young mom, my age, with her cute, healthy little baby boy or girl. Everywhere I turned. It honestly started to feel like a slap in face or a stab in the heart every time a saw a mother with her child. For some reason that day, I couldn't take those sights. I started missing Hailey. Thinking of things I would no longer be able to do with her. Started feeling sorry for myself more than thinking of her.
The rest of this week has been the most difficult yet. I miss her more and more each day. The loss is fresh and unbearable. It literally feels like a part of me is gone. And how do you function if you're not whole? The grief this week was almost paralyzing. I think it's probably safe to say that I'm feeling some depression this week. The same things that once brought me comfort, I no longer found comfort in. I didn't have the energy to do anything (not to mention that I had a cold which didn't help). I didn't want to do anything. I couldn't do anything. I felt like my strength and peace had run out. Not run out, more like got ripped away from me suddenly within a day. The grief was raw. Like I had never experienced before. I wasn't happy. I didn't want to be happy. I was tired of being strong. I was tired and almost afraid that the world would think I'm okay. Life sucked. My baby, my child was gone. And that is all I could focus on. My purpose was to be her mother and raise her and see her grow. That was all gone. I started getting afraid of my future. My future still is unclear to me. And one of the things I hate the most right now is people asking me what I'm going to do now. I want to shout back what am I supposed to do! Do you know what it's like to lose your baby? I can barely function and get up in the morning and you want to know if I'm going to be a teacher again and start working! Please stop asking me what I'm going to do. I don't know what I'm going to do. Right now I'm living day to day. Just trying to make it through.
God has been my strength and provider through all of this. But this week, it was difficult to go to Him. I wasn't turning my back on him. I wasn't yet angry with him. I just didn't feel his presence as strongly anymore. I knew he hadn't left me, but it was feeling like he had. I started arguing and crying out to him in my head - why me? why Hailey? why my dad? why do we have to live so far away from all of my friends and family? why do you want me to endure all this pain? where is the hope of good in my future that you promise? why does it feel like you've left me alone? I felt like Job crying out in despair. I thought and hoped I wouldn't get to that point in my grief where I yelled at God, where I felt abandoned, where I longed to be with Hailey in Heaven and not here on earth without her. But I got to that point. C.S. Lewis writes about how he went through a period of this too. He described is feelings with a friend. Lewis writes: "He reminded me that the same thing seems to have happened to Christ: 'Why hast thou forsaken me?' I know. Does that make it easier to understand?" And this is where I will interrupt with a comment like Lewis adds immediately after sharing these honest thoughts and feelings: I am not in danger of ceasing to believe in God or turn my back on him.
So what is grief? I don't know. I'm grieving, and I don't know what it is. I do know that it's not the same for everyone. And it's different for me every day. Yes it's true, some days are good days and some days are bad. But what makes one good vs. bad I have yet to figure out. For me, the first couple of weeks were almost the easiest if I can use that word when I expected them to be the hardest...and now, the last week or so has been the most difficult so far.
Grief can be peaceful at times - almost when I least expect it. And grief can be ugly at times. It can completely wash over me and make me feel like I'm drowning. And I was afraid of that grief. I thought that I would be 'less of a Christian' if I felt that kind of grief. But I don't think that's true. I'm not turning my back on God. Even on the days I want to give up and don't have a 'godly' perspective, I still believe in God. I may feel like he has forsaken me, but deep in my heart he will forever remain my Lord and Savior. So even on my darkest days of grief where the longing for Hailey is unbearably...which apparently I am not immune to like I had hoped...and I seem to have lost my source of hope and joy and comfort and peace... I really haven't. I think I'm learning that God does not always have to allow me to feel joy and hope in this situation. He knows my pain better than anyone including me. And according to His word there is a plan for it and he wants to work good in it and there is a hope for my future... but I want immediate relief. I want that all now. And he is telling me no.
The final passage I want to share for today from A Grief Observed is this:
"'Do not mourn like those that have no hope.' It astonishes me the way we are invited to apply to ourselves words to obviously addressed to our betters. What [Paul] says can comfort only those who love God better than the dead, and the dead better than themselves. If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which is was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to 'glorify God and enjoy Him forever.' A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her. But not to her motherhood. The specifically maternal happiness must be written off. Never, in any place or time, will she have her [daughter] on her knees, or bath [her], or tell [her] a story, or plan for [her] future, or see her grandchild."
So here is the verse that He has put on my heart in the darkest of my days this week and remains there today: "Be still and know that am I God." Well I have nothing else to do but that. So I will ride out the storm and wait for my rescue. It will come... there's just no telling when or how.
Today is the one month anniversary of my baby girl's passing. And surprisingly, even as I write this post, today is not the hardest day I've had so far. I would have expected today to be one of the worst days yet. But for some reason it's not. I think I need to let go of all expectations, because in this season that I'm in, hardly anything is as I expect it to be. I'm able to find some comfort again today in the knowledge that she IS in a far better place. And I also have to say without God (even when I feel he is gone) and without my husband, I can't imagine how much worse this could be... So thank you to God and my husband for carrying me through these times when I can't pick myself up off the ground.
"I must think more about [her] and less about myself." C.S. Lewis.
"Be still and know that am I God." Psalm 46:10
To my munchkin - I miss you today. I miss you everyday. I can't believe you've been in Heaven for a month now. I hope you're having a blast hanging out with Jesus. I find comfort in trying to imagine all of the amazing things you get to do and experience in Heaven. I know you're having a great time and you're in the best hands to be in. Praying that God gives you some extra hugs and kisses from me. Love you forever, Mom.
This past month has been more than just a roller coaster ride, more than my life being turned upside down, more than a tornado ripping it apart ... it's been overwhelming. I hit extreme highs in joy and extreme lows in sorrow - sometimes hitting both extremes multiple times in a day...sometimes one extreme lasting a day or two only to be followed by a day or two of the other extreme.
I didn't now what grief would be like. You can always imagine but can never be prepared. I had lost grandparents and other relatives over the years, and of course their passings were difficult. But nothing compares to the grief I feel over Hailey... my dad comes close, but for some reason grieving the loss of my own child is the most painful.
Even being prepared for Hailey's death before it came did not make this process any easier. It's still terrible. It's terrible, and it's awful. I began to mourn her before she passed away. I was scared of what life would be like without her and how I'd handle it... or not handle it. Nothing, not even the sadness I felt when she was alive, could have prepared me for this process of dealing with her death.
I started reading C.S. Lewis's book A Grief Observed in which he observes his own grief with the loss of his wife. In the first passage of the book he writes, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing." When I read those words, I was kind of taken aback. He was right. It did and does feel similar to fear. And unlike Lewis, for me, sometimes, I am afraid. I am afraid of this new life I have without Hailey. I am afraid I won't make it through the day. I am afraid of depression.
When I started this blog I told myself that I wanted to be honest in my thoughts and feelings regardless of whether they were 'correct' or 'right' or not, so I will continue to do that. Today I want to share about my grief. I know, not the most positive and encouraging thing for you to be reading, but I need to do it for me.
The morning Hailey passed away I was in a deep, peaceful sleep. I awoke to Josh lightly shaking me and telling me I needed to wake up. In my sleepy state I became aware that something wasn't right. It wasn't time for me to wake up yet. I looked in my husband's face trying to wake up and figure out what was wrong. He just kept telling me I needed to come see Hailey, and I could see the tears in his eyes. My heart literally dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I asked what was wrong...is she okay? is she gone? He just kept telling me quietly to come see Hailey. I started crying. A soft cry. I knew. He didn't have to say it. I knew. I went to her. She didn't have her oxygen in her nose. She didn't need it. She wasn't breathing. She was lying there swaddled tightly in her blankie looking as beautiful and as peaceful as ever. I stupidly asked, "Can I hold her?" The entire time I had quiet tears streaming down my cheeks. I picked her up and held her close. I kissed her forehead. Her soft skin was still warm against my lips.
I won't go much more into detail about that morning. But I will say, it wasn't what I had expected. Not that I knew what to expect. The quietness of it all. The almost peacefulness in it. Before Hailey passed I had wondered what it would be like when she did. Would it be painful? Would it be ugly? Would it be peaceful? What would I do? I had thought that I might go hysterical or throw up when it happened. I really thought that was going to be my reaction. But when the time came, it wasn't. My reaction was quiet. My tears were there. But it wasn't hysterical crying, it was soft sobs, soft streams of tears trickling down my face. It was all much more quiet, and slower than I had imagined. When I tried to envision it I didn't know if I'd want to hold her or touch her lifeless body. But when it did happen, I had to hold her. One last time. And the hardest part was letting her go and see her carried out the front door of house. She would never come back. Not having her in my arms was the hard part. Is the hard part. Even after she had been taken, the day was very strange. Again, very quiet. I didn't now what to do with myself. There were lots of tears and lots of hugs. But it was almost like my body was in survival mode again like it was immediately after I gave birth to Hailey and we learned she was very sick. Survival. It's like your body goes through the motions and does what it needs to do and the mind, almost incapacitated, is along for the ride.
The next couple of weeks were so busy that my mind barely had time to wrap itself around what was happening. God gave me supernatural strength that carried me through her memorial service. I was strong (for the most part) and no one expected me to be. I felt like I had to be strong for everyone else. And I did feel strong. I wasn't faking it. I remembering sitting in front of Hailey's casket outside at her burial. It was cold, and they put a blanket on my lap. Josh sat next to me with his arm around me. Our family behind us. A tiny casket in front of us. I remember crying and sitting there the entire time and even thinking then that it felt like an out of body experience. It was so odd. I couldn't wrap myself and my mind around what was happening. It was happening whether I was ready or not.
Everything that happened following Hailey's death is like a whirlwind. We were away from our home in Alabama. We were busy every day visiting with family and friends. And things with my dad were becoming worse and worse. Eventually my mind and heart shifted focus to my dad who eventually lost his battle with cancer. My grief for Hailey at times got put on pause.
In the first couple of weeks after Hailey's passing, I had tremendous strength. The grief was there. But I was strong in it. I found joy in it. I found hope in it. Those weeks and days were amazing. God allowed me to mourn Hailey but His comfort and peace He gave me were so overwhelming. There were good days and bad days, but I got through them all. I saw the light amidst the darkness.
However, this past week, my grief is no longer the same. Things are settling down. We're getting into a routine again here in Alabama. And my grief has a different face now. I didn't expect that. I thought it would continue as it had.
Earlier this week I bought a bunch of frames and printed off a bunch of my favorite pictures of Hailey and we put them up in the house. I thoroughly enjoyed doing that. Those first couple of days were good. And I'm glad I have them up and around the house... but I'll share something that C.S. Lewis wrote that I completely relate to:
"I have no photograph of her that's any good. I cannot even see her face distinctly in my imagination. Yet the odd face of some stranger seen in a crowd this morning may come before me in vivid perfection the moment I close my eyes tonight...We have seen the faces of those we know best so variously, from so many angles, in so many lights, with so many expressions...that all the impressions crowd into our memory together and cancel out into a mere blur." It's frustrating at times.
If I had to pick a moment that changed the course of my grief, I would have to say it was the day I went grocery shopping at the commissary on post. The number of new moms with their babies was too much for me. It was unexpected. Everywhere I turned was a young mom, my age, with her cute, healthy little baby boy or girl. Everywhere I turned. It honestly started to feel like a slap in face or a stab in the heart every time a saw a mother with her child. For some reason that day, I couldn't take those sights. I started missing Hailey. Thinking of things I would no longer be able to do with her. Started feeling sorry for myself more than thinking of her.
The rest of this week has been the most difficult yet. I miss her more and more each day. The loss is fresh and unbearable. It literally feels like a part of me is gone. And how do you function if you're not whole? The grief this week was almost paralyzing. I think it's probably safe to say that I'm feeling some depression this week. The same things that once brought me comfort, I no longer found comfort in. I didn't have the energy to do anything (not to mention that I had a cold which didn't help). I didn't want to do anything. I couldn't do anything. I felt like my strength and peace had run out. Not run out, more like got ripped away from me suddenly within a day. The grief was raw. Like I had never experienced before. I wasn't happy. I didn't want to be happy. I was tired of being strong. I was tired and almost afraid that the world would think I'm okay. Life sucked. My baby, my child was gone. And that is all I could focus on. My purpose was to be her mother and raise her and see her grow. That was all gone. I started getting afraid of my future. My future still is unclear to me. And one of the things I hate the most right now is people asking me what I'm going to do now. I want to shout back what am I supposed to do! Do you know what it's like to lose your baby? I can barely function and get up in the morning and you want to know if I'm going to be a teacher again and start working! Please stop asking me what I'm going to do. I don't know what I'm going to do. Right now I'm living day to day. Just trying to make it through.
God has been my strength and provider through all of this. But this week, it was difficult to go to Him. I wasn't turning my back on him. I wasn't yet angry with him. I just didn't feel his presence as strongly anymore. I knew he hadn't left me, but it was feeling like he had. I started arguing and crying out to him in my head - why me? why Hailey? why my dad? why do we have to live so far away from all of my friends and family? why do you want me to endure all this pain? where is the hope of good in my future that you promise? why does it feel like you've left me alone? I felt like Job crying out in despair. I thought and hoped I wouldn't get to that point in my grief where I yelled at God, where I felt abandoned, where I longed to be with Hailey in Heaven and not here on earth without her. But I got to that point. C.S. Lewis writes about how he went through a period of this too. He described is feelings with a friend. Lewis writes: "He reminded me that the same thing seems to have happened to Christ: 'Why hast thou forsaken me?' I know. Does that make it easier to understand?" And this is where I will interrupt with a comment like Lewis adds immediately after sharing these honest thoughts and feelings: I am not in danger of ceasing to believe in God or turn my back on him.
So what is grief? I don't know. I'm grieving, and I don't know what it is. I do know that it's not the same for everyone. And it's different for me every day. Yes it's true, some days are good days and some days are bad. But what makes one good vs. bad I have yet to figure out. For me, the first couple of weeks were almost the easiest if I can use that word when I expected them to be the hardest...and now, the last week or so has been the most difficult so far.
Grief can be peaceful at times - almost when I least expect it. And grief can be ugly at times. It can completely wash over me and make me feel like I'm drowning. And I was afraid of that grief. I thought that I would be 'less of a Christian' if I felt that kind of grief. But I don't think that's true. I'm not turning my back on God. Even on the days I want to give up and don't have a 'godly' perspective, I still believe in God. I may feel like he has forsaken me, but deep in my heart he will forever remain my Lord and Savior. So even on my darkest days of grief where the longing for Hailey is unbearably...which apparently I am not immune to like I had hoped...and I seem to have lost my source of hope and joy and comfort and peace... I really haven't. I think I'm learning that God does not always have to allow me to feel joy and hope in this situation. He knows my pain better than anyone including me. And according to His word there is a plan for it and he wants to work good in it and there is a hope for my future... but I want immediate relief. I want that all now. And he is telling me no.
The final passage I want to share for today from A Grief Observed is this:
"'Do not mourn like those that have no hope.' It astonishes me the way we are invited to apply to ourselves words to obviously addressed to our betters. What [Paul] says can comfort only those who love God better than the dead, and the dead better than themselves. If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which is was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to 'glorify God and enjoy Him forever.' A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her. But not to her motherhood. The specifically maternal happiness must be written off. Never, in any place or time, will she have her [daughter] on her knees, or bath [her], or tell [her] a story, or plan for [her] future, or see her grandchild."
So here is the verse that He has put on my heart in the darkest of my days this week and remains there today: "Be still and know that am I God." Well I have nothing else to do but that. So I will ride out the storm and wait for my rescue. It will come... there's just no telling when or how.
Today is the one month anniversary of my baby girl's passing. And surprisingly, even as I write this post, today is not the hardest day I've had so far. I would have expected today to be one of the worst days yet. But for some reason it's not. I think I need to let go of all expectations, because in this season that I'm in, hardly anything is as I expect it to be. I'm able to find some comfort again today in the knowledge that she IS in a far better place. And I also have to say without God (even when I feel he is gone) and without my husband, I can't imagine how much worse this could be... So thank you to God and my husband for carrying me through these times when I can't pick myself up off the ground.
"I must think more about [her] and less about myself." C.S. Lewis.
"Be still and know that am I God." Psalm 46:10
To my munchkin - I miss you today. I miss you everyday. I can't believe you've been in Heaven for a month now. I hope you're having a blast hanging out with Jesus. I find comfort in trying to imagine all of the amazing things you get to do and experience in Heaven. I know you're having a great time and you're in the best hands to be in. Praying that God gives you some extra hugs and kisses from me. Love you forever, Mom.
1 month in Heaven...My Grief Observed
One month ago today Hailey passed away. I miss her more and more every day. I didn't know it was possible to miss her more than I do, but I guess it is because every day gets harder.
This past month has been more than just a roller coaster ride, more than my life being turned upside down, more than a tornado ripping it apart ... it's been overwhelming. I hit extreme highs in joy and extreme lows in sorrow - sometimes hitting both extremes multiple times in a day...sometimes one extreme lasting a day or two only to be followed by a day or two of the other extreme.
I didn't now what grief would be like. You can always imagine but can never be prepared. I had lost grandparents and other relatives over the years, and of course their passings were difficult. But nothing compares to the grief I feel over Hailey... my dad comes close, but for some reason grieving the loss of my own child is the most painful.
Even being prepared for Hailey's death before it came did not make this process any easier. It's still terrible. It's terrible, and it's awful. I began to mourn her before she passed away. I was scared of what life would be like without her and how I'd handle it... or not handle it. Nothing, not even the sadness I felt when she was alive, could have prepared me for this process of dealing with her death.
I started reading C.S. Lewis's book A Grief Observed in which he observes his own grief with the loss of his wife. In the first passage of the book he writes, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing." When I read those words, I was kind of taken aback. He was right. It did and does feel similar to fear. And unlike Lewis, for me, sometimes, I am afraid. I am afraid of this new life I have without Hailey. I am afraid I won't make it through the day. I am afraid of depression.
When I started this blog I told myself that I wanted to be honest in my thoughts and feelings regardless of whether they were 'correct' or 'right' or not, so I will continue to do that. Today I want to share about my grief. I know, not the most positive and encouraging thing for you to be reading, but I need to do it for me.
The morning Hailey passed away I was in a deep, peaceful sleep. I awoke to Josh lightly shaking me and telling me I needed to wake up. In my sleepy state I became aware that something wasn't right. It wasn't time for me to wake up yet. I looked in my husband's face trying to wake up and figure out what was wrong. He just kept telling me I needed to come see Hailey, and I could see the tears in his eyes. My heart literally dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I asked what was wrong...is she okay? is she gone? He just kept telling me quietly to come see Hailey. I started crying. A soft cry. I knew. He didn't have to say it. I knew. I went to her. She didn't have her oxygen in her nose. She didn't need it. She wasn't breathing. She was lying there swaddled tightly in her blankie looking as beautiful and as peaceful as ever. I stupidly asked, "Can I hold her?" The entire time I had quiet tears streaming down my cheeks. I picked her up and held her close. I kissed her forehead. Her soft skin was still warm against my lips.
I won't go much more into detail about that morning. But I will say, it wasn't what I had expected. Not that I knew what to expect. The quietness of it all. The almost peacefulness in it. Before Hailey passed I had wondered what it would be like when she did. Would it be painful? Would it be ugly? Would it be peaceful? What would I do? I had thought that I might go hysterical or throw up when it happened. I really thought that was going to be my reaction. But when the time came, it wasn't. My reaction was quiet. My tears were there. But it wasn't hysterical crying, it was soft sobs, soft streams of tears trickling down my face. It was all much more quiet, and slower than I had imagined. When I tried to envision it I didn't know if I'd want to hold her or touch her lifeless body. But when it did happen, I had to hold her. One last time. And the hardest part was letting her go and see her carried out the front door of house. She would never come back. Not having her in my arms was the hard part. Is the hard part. Even after she had been taken, the day was very strange. Again, very quiet. I didn't now what to do with myself. There were lots of tears and lots of hugs. But it was almost like my body was in survival mode again like it was immediately after I gave birth to Hailey and we learned she was very sick. Survival. It's like your body goes through the motions and does what it needs to do and the mind, almost incapacitated, is along for the ride.
The next couple of weeks were so busy that my mind barely had time to wrap itself around what was happening. God gave me supernatural strength that carried me through her memorial service. I was strong (for the most part) and no one expected me to be. I felt like I had to be strong for everyone else. And I did feel strong. I wasn't faking it. I remembering sitting in front of Hailey's casket outside at her burial. It was cold, and they put a blanket on my lap. Josh sat next to me with his arm around me. Our family behind us. A tiny casket in front of us. I remember crying and sitting there the entire time and even thinking then that it felt like an out of body experience. It was so odd. I couldn't wrap myself and my mind around what was happening. It was happening whether I was ready or not.
Everything that happened following Hailey's death is like a whirlwind. We were away from our home in Alabama. We were busy every day visiting with family and friends. And things with my dad were becoming worse and worse. Eventually my mind and heart shifted focus to my dad who eventually lost his battle with cancer. My grief for Hailey at times got put on pause.
In the first couple of weeks after Hailey's passing, I had tremendous strength. The grief was there. But I was strong in it. I found joy in it. I found hope in it. Those weeks and days were amazing. God allowed me to mourn Hailey but His comfort and peace He gave me were so overwhelming. There were good days and bad days, but I got through them all. I saw the light amidst the darkness.
However, this past week, my grief is no longer the same. Things are settling down. We're getting into a routine again here in Alabama. And my grief has a different face now. I didn't expect that. I thought it would continue as it had.
Earlier this week I bought a bunch of frames and printed off a bunch of my favorite pictures of Hailey and we put them up in the house. I thoroughly enjoyed doing that. Those first couple of days were good. And I'm glad I have them up and around the house... but I'll share something that C.S. Lewis wrote that I completely relate to:
"I have no photograph of her that's any good. I cannot even see her face distinctly in my imagination. Yet the odd face of some stranger seen in a crowd this morning may come before me in vivid perfection the moment I close my eyes tonight...We have seen the faces of those we know best so variously, from so many angles, in so many lights, with so many expressions...that all the impressions crowd into our memory together and cancel out into a mere blur." It's frustrating at times.
If I had to pick a moment that changed the course of my grief, I would have to say it was the day I went grocery shopping at the commissary on post. The number of new moms with their babies was too much for me. It was unexpected. Everywhere I turned was a young mom, my age, with her cute, healthy little baby boy or girl. Everywhere I turned. It honestly started to feel like a slap in face or a stab in the heart every time a saw a mother with her child. For some reason that day, I couldn't take those sights. I started missing Hailey. Thinking of things I would no longer be able to do with her. Started feeling sorry for myself more than thinking of her.
The rest of this week has been the most difficult yet. I miss her more and more each day. The loss is fresh and unbearable. It literally feels like a part of me is gone. And how do you function if you're not whole? The grief this week was almost paralyzing. I think it's probably safe to say that I'm feeling some depression this week. The same things that once brought me comfort, I no longer found comfort in. I didn't have the energy to do anything (not to mention that I had a cold which didn't help). I didn't want to do anything. I couldn't do anything. I felt like my strength and peace had run out. Not run out, more like got ripped away from me suddenly within a day. The grief was raw. Like I had never experienced before. I wasn't happy. I didn't want to be happy. I was tired of being strong. I was tired and almost afraid that the world would think I'm okay. Life sucked. My baby, my child was gone. And that is all I could focus on. My purpose was to be her mother and raise her and see her grow. That was all gone. I started getting afraid of my future. My future still is unclear to me. And one of the things I hate the most right now is people asking me what I'm going to do now. I want to shout back what am I supposed to do! Do you know what it's like to lose your baby? I can barely function and get up in the morning and you want to know if I'm going to be a teacher again and start working! Please stop asking me what I'm going to do. I don't know what I'm going to do. Right now I'm living day to day. Just trying to make it through.
God has been my strength and provider through all of this. But this week, it was difficult to go to Him. I wasn't turning my back on him. I wasn't yet angry with him. I just didn't feel his presence as strongly anymore. I knew he hadn't left me, but it was feeling like he had. I started arguing and crying out to him in my head - why me? why Hailey? why my dad? why do we have to live so far away from all of my friends and family? why do you want me to endure all this pain? where is the hope of good in my future that you promise? why does it feel like you've left me alone? I felt like Job crying out in despair. I thought and hoped I wouldn't get to that point in my grief where I yelled at God, where I felt abandoned, where I longed to be with Hailey in Heaven and not here on earth without her. But I got to that point. C.S. Lewis writes about how he went through a period of this too. He described is feelings with a friend. Lewis writes: "He reminded me that the same thing seems to have happened to Christ: 'Why hast thou forsaken me?' I know. Does that make it easier to understand?" And this is where I will interrupt with a comment like Lewis adds immediately after sharing these honest thoughts and feelings: I am not in danger of ceasing to believe in God or turn my back on him.
So what is grief? I don't know. I'm grieving, and I don't know what it is. I do know that it's not the same for everyone. And it's different for me every day. Yes it's true, some days are good days and some days are bad. But what makes one good vs. bad I have yet to figure out. For me, the first couple of weeks were almost the easiest if I can use that word when I expected them to be the hardest...and now, the last week or so has been the most difficult so far.
Grief can be peaceful at times - almost when I least expect it. And grief can be ugly at times. It can completely wash over me and make me feel like I'm drowning. And I was afraid of that grief. I thought that I would be 'less of a Christian' if I felt that kind of grief. But I don't think that's true. I'm not turning my back on God. Even on the days I want to give up and don't have a 'godly' perspective, I still believe in God. I may feel like he has forsaken me, but deep in my heart he will forever remain my Lord and Savior. So even on my darkest days of grief where the longing for Hailey is unbearably...which apparently I am not immune to like I had hoped...and I seem to have lost my source of hope and joy and comfort and peace... I really haven't. I think I'm learning that God does not always have to allow me to feel joy and hope in this situation. He knows my pain better than anyone including me. And according to His word there is a plan for it and he wants to work good in it and there is a hope for my future... but I want immediate relief. I want that all now. And he is telling me no.
The final passage I want to share for today from A Grief Observed is this:
"'Do not mourn like those that have no hope.' It astonishes me the way we are invited to apply to ourselves words to obviously addressed to our betters. What [Paul] says can comfort only those who love God better than the dead, and the dead better than themselves. If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which is was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to 'glorify God and enjoy Him forever.' A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her. But not to her motherhood. The specifically maternal happiness must be written off. Never, in any place or time, will she have her [daughter] on her knees, or bath [her], or tell [her] a story, or plan for [her] future, or see her grandchild."
So here is the verse that He has put on my heart in the darkest of my days this week and remains there today: "Be still and know that am I God." Well I have nothing else to do but that. So I will ride out the storm and wait for my rescue. It will come... there's just no telling when or how.
Today is the one month anniversary of my baby girl's passing. And surprisingly, even as I write this post, today is not the hardest day I've had so far. I would have expected today to be one of the worst days yet. But for some reason it's not. I think I need to let go of all expectations, because in this season that I'm in, hardly anything is as I expect it to be. I'm able to find some comfort again today in the knowledge that she IS in a far better place. And I also have to say without God (even when I feel he is gone) and without my husband, I can't imagine how much worse this could be... So thank you to God and my husband for carrying me through these times when I can't pick myself up off the ground.
"I must think more about [her] and less about myself." C.S. Lewis.
"Be still and know that am I God." Psalm 46:10
To my munchkin - I miss you today. I miss you everyday. I can't believe you've been in Heaven for a month now. I hope you're having a blast hanging out with Jesus. I find comfort in trying to imagine all of the amazing things you get to do and experience in Heaven. I know you're having a great time and you're in the best hands to be in. Praying that God gives you some extra hugs and kisses from me. Love you forever, Mom.
This past month has been more than just a roller coaster ride, more than my life being turned upside down, more than a tornado ripping it apart ... it's been overwhelming. I hit extreme highs in joy and extreme lows in sorrow - sometimes hitting both extremes multiple times in a day...sometimes one extreme lasting a day or two only to be followed by a day or two of the other extreme.
I didn't now what grief would be like. You can always imagine but can never be prepared. I had lost grandparents and other relatives over the years, and of course their passings were difficult. But nothing compares to the grief I feel over Hailey... my dad comes close, but for some reason grieving the loss of my own child is the most painful.
Even being prepared for Hailey's death before it came did not make this process any easier. It's still terrible. It's terrible, and it's awful. I began to mourn her before she passed away. I was scared of what life would be like without her and how I'd handle it... or not handle it. Nothing, not even the sadness I felt when she was alive, could have prepared me for this process of dealing with her death.
I started reading C.S. Lewis's book A Grief Observed in which he observes his own grief with the loss of his wife. In the first passage of the book he writes, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing." When I read those words, I was kind of taken aback. He was right. It did and does feel similar to fear. And unlike Lewis, for me, sometimes, I am afraid. I am afraid of this new life I have without Hailey. I am afraid I won't make it through the day. I am afraid of depression.
When I started this blog I told myself that I wanted to be honest in my thoughts and feelings regardless of whether they were 'correct' or 'right' or not, so I will continue to do that. Today I want to share about my grief. I know, not the most positive and encouraging thing for you to be reading, but I need to do it for me.
The morning Hailey passed away I was in a deep, peaceful sleep. I awoke to Josh lightly shaking me and telling me I needed to wake up. In my sleepy state I became aware that something wasn't right. It wasn't time for me to wake up yet. I looked in my husband's face trying to wake up and figure out what was wrong. He just kept telling me I needed to come see Hailey, and I could see the tears in his eyes. My heart literally dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I asked what was wrong...is she okay? is she gone? He just kept telling me quietly to come see Hailey. I started crying. A soft cry. I knew. He didn't have to say it. I knew. I went to her. She didn't have her oxygen in her nose. She didn't need it. She wasn't breathing. She was lying there swaddled tightly in her blankie looking as beautiful and as peaceful as ever. I stupidly asked, "Can I hold her?" The entire time I had quiet tears streaming down my cheeks. I picked her up and held her close. I kissed her forehead. Her soft skin was still warm against my lips.
I won't go much more into detail about that morning. But I will say, it wasn't what I had expected. Not that I knew what to expect. The quietness of it all. The almost peacefulness in it. Before Hailey passed I had wondered what it would be like when she did. Would it be painful? Would it be ugly? Would it be peaceful? What would I do? I had thought that I might go hysterical or throw up when it happened. I really thought that was going to be my reaction. But when the time came, it wasn't. My reaction was quiet. My tears were there. But it wasn't hysterical crying, it was soft sobs, soft streams of tears trickling down my face. It was all much more quiet, and slower than I had imagined. When I tried to envision it I didn't know if I'd want to hold her or touch her lifeless body. But when it did happen, I had to hold her. One last time. And the hardest part was letting her go and see her carried out the front door of house. She would never come back. Not having her in my arms was the hard part. Is the hard part. Even after she had been taken, the day was very strange. Again, very quiet. I didn't now what to do with myself. There were lots of tears and lots of hugs. But it was almost like my body was in survival mode again like it was immediately after I gave birth to Hailey and we learned she was very sick. Survival. It's like your body goes through the motions and does what it needs to do and the mind, almost incapacitated, is along for the ride.
The next couple of weeks were so busy that my mind barely had time to wrap itself around what was happening. God gave me supernatural strength that carried me through her memorial service. I was strong (for the most part) and no one expected me to be. I felt like I had to be strong for everyone else. And I did feel strong. I wasn't faking it. I remembering sitting in front of Hailey's casket outside at her burial. It was cold, and they put a blanket on my lap. Josh sat next to me with his arm around me. Our family behind us. A tiny casket in front of us. I remember crying and sitting there the entire time and even thinking then that it felt like an out of body experience. It was so odd. I couldn't wrap myself and my mind around what was happening. It was happening whether I was ready or not.
Everything that happened following Hailey's death is like a whirlwind. We were away from our home in Alabama. We were busy every day visiting with family and friends. And things with my dad were becoming worse and worse. Eventually my mind and heart shifted focus to my dad who eventually lost his battle with cancer. My grief for Hailey at times got put on pause.
In the first couple of weeks after Hailey's passing, I had tremendous strength. The grief was there. But I was strong in it. I found joy in it. I found hope in it. Those weeks and days were amazing. God allowed me to mourn Hailey but His comfort and peace He gave me were so overwhelming. There were good days and bad days, but I got through them all. I saw the light amidst the darkness.
However, this past week, my grief is no longer the same. Things are settling down. We're getting into a routine again here in Alabama. And my grief has a different face now. I didn't expect that. I thought it would continue as it had.
Earlier this week I bought a bunch of frames and printed off a bunch of my favorite pictures of Hailey and we put them up in the house. I thoroughly enjoyed doing that. Those first couple of days were good. And I'm glad I have them up and around the house... but I'll share something that C.S. Lewis wrote that I completely relate to:
"I have no photograph of her that's any good. I cannot even see her face distinctly in my imagination. Yet the odd face of some stranger seen in a crowd this morning may come before me in vivid perfection the moment I close my eyes tonight...We have seen the faces of those we know best so variously, from so many angles, in so many lights, with so many expressions...that all the impressions crowd into our memory together and cancel out into a mere blur." It's frustrating at times.
If I had to pick a moment that changed the course of my grief, I would have to say it was the day I went grocery shopping at the commissary on post. The number of new moms with their babies was too much for me. It was unexpected. Everywhere I turned was a young mom, my age, with her cute, healthy little baby boy or girl. Everywhere I turned. It honestly started to feel like a slap in face or a stab in the heart every time a saw a mother with her child. For some reason that day, I couldn't take those sights. I started missing Hailey. Thinking of things I would no longer be able to do with her. Started feeling sorry for myself more than thinking of her.
The rest of this week has been the most difficult yet. I miss her more and more each day. The loss is fresh and unbearable. It literally feels like a part of me is gone. And how do you function if you're not whole? The grief this week was almost paralyzing. I think it's probably safe to say that I'm feeling some depression this week. The same things that once brought me comfort, I no longer found comfort in. I didn't have the energy to do anything (not to mention that I had a cold which didn't help). I didn't want to do anything. I couldn't do anything. I felt like my strength and peace had run out. Not run out, more like got ripped away from me suddenly within a day. The grief was raw. Like I had never experienced before. I wasn't happy. I didn't want to be happy. I was tired of being strong. I was tired and almost afraid that the world would think I'm okay. Life sucked. My baby, my child was gone. And that is all I could focus on. My purpose was to be her mother and raise her and see her grow. That was all gone. I started getting afraid of my future. My future still is unclear to me. And one of the things I hate the most right now is people asking me what I'm going to do now. I want to shout back what am I supposed to do! Do you know what it's like to lose your baby? I can barely function and get up in the morning and you want to know if I'm going to be a teacher again and start working! Please stop asking me what I'm going to do. I don't know what I'm going to do. Right now I'm living day to day. Just trying to make it through.
God has been my strength and provider through all of this. But this week, it was difficult to go to Him. I wasn't turning my back on him. I wasn't yet angry with him. I just didn't feel his presence as strongly anymore. I knew he hadn't left me, but it was feeling like he had. I started arguing and crying out to him in my head - why me? why Hailey? why my dad? why do we have to live so far away from all of my friends and family? why do you want me to endure all this pain? where is the hope of good in my future that you promise? why does it feel like you've left me alone? I felt like Job crying out in despair. I thought and hoped I wouldn't get to that point in my grief where I yelled at God, where I felt abandoned, where I longed to be with Hailey in Heaven and not here on earth without her. But I got to that point. C.S. Lewis writes about how he went through a period of this too. He described is feelings with a friend. Lewis writes: "He reminded me that the same thing seems to have happened to Christ: 'Why hast thou forsaken me?' I know. Does that make it easier to understand?" And this is where I will interrupt with a comment like Lewis adds immediately after sharing these honest thoughts and feelings: I am not in danger of ceasing to believe in God or turn my back on him.
So what is grief? I don't know. I'm grieving, and I don't know what it is. I do know that it's not the same for everyone. And it's different for me every day. Yes it's true, some days are good days and some days are bad. But what makes one good vs. bad I have yet to figure out. For me, the first couple of weeks were almost the easiest if I can use that word when I expected them to be the hardest...and now, the last week or so has been the most difficult so far.
Grief can be peaceful at times - almost when I least expect it. And grief can be ugly at times. It can completely wash over me and make me feel like I'm drowning. And I was afraid of that grief. I thought that I would be 'less of a Christian' if I felt that kind of grief. But I don't think that's true. I'm not turning my back on God. Even on the days I want to give up and don't have a 'godly' perspective, I still believe in God. I may feel like he has forsaken me, but deep in my heart he will forever remain my Lord and Savior. So even on my darkest days of grief where the longing for Hailey is unbearably...which apparently I am not immune to like I had hoped...and I seem to have lost my source of hope and joy and comfort and peace... I really haven't. I think I'm learning that God does not always have to allow me to feel joy and hope in this situation. He knows my pain better than anyone including me. And according to His word there is a plan for it and he wants to work good in it and there is a hope for my future... but I want immediate relief. I want that all now. And he is telling me no.
The final passage I want to share for today from A Grief Observed is this:
"'Do not mourn like those that have no hope.' It astonishes me the way we are invited to apply to ourselves words to obviously addressed to our betters. What [Paul] says can comfort only those who love God better than the dead, and the dead better than themselves. If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which is was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to 'glorify God and enjoy Him forever.' A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her. But not to her motherhood. The specifically maternal happiness must be written off. Never, in any place or time, will she have her [daughter] on her knees, or bath [her], or tell [her] a story, or plan for [her] future, or see her grandchild."
So here is the verse that He has put on my heart in the darkest of my days this week and remains there today: "Be still and know that am I God." Well I have nothing else to do but that. So I will ride out the storm and wait for my rescue. It will come... there's just no telling when or how.
Today is the one month anniversary of my baby girl's passing. And surprisingly, even as I write this post, today is not the hardest day I've had so far. I would have expected today to be one of the worst days yet. But for some reason it's not. I think I need to let go of all expectations, because in this season that I'm in, hardly anything is as I expect it to be. I'm able to find some comfort again today in the knowledge that she IS in a far better place. And I also have to say without God (even when I feel he is gone) and without my husband, I can't imagine how much worse this could be... So thank you to God and my husband for carrying me through these times when I can't pick myself up off the ground.
"I must think more about [her] and less about myself." C.S. Lewis.
"Be still and know that am I God." Psalm 46:10
To my munchkin - I miss you today. I miss you everyday. I can't believe you've been in Heaven for a month now. I hope you're having a blast hanging out with Jesus. I find comfort in trying to imagine all of the amazing things you get to do and experience in Heaven. I know you're having a great time and you're in the best hands to be in. Praying that God gives you some extra hugs and kisses from me. Love you forever, Mom.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Tangible Reminders of Hailey
As I often write, the things I fear or worry about the most are forgetting Hailey, other people forgetting or not knowing Hailey, etc. - basically, if life were to be like Hailey never existed.
To help me 'overcome' these things I have several tangible reminders of her that I wear. And as much as I'm not a materialistic person, these items do mean the world to me. I'm holding on to anything I can that reminds me of her. My pictures, the clay imprint of Hailey's hand, my jewelry...tangible reminders.
When several of my teacher friends learned about Hailey's diagnosis of Trisomy 18 and that she didn't have much time with us, they came together and arranged for me to have a beautiful, unique reminder of Hailey in a necklace. This pendant necklace is made of silver and has Hailey's name written on the front (and "munchkin" on the back). The best part of it is that the woman who made it was able to take a scanned image of Hailey's footprint from the hospital and make it into a miniaturized imprint in the silver pendant. Here is a picture of it. I absolutely love it! My little Hailey's footprint :)
The next reminder I wear is the locket I bought after Hailey had passed away. Below is a picture of the locket and you can see Hailey's picture inside. The other 'charms' on the necklace are very significant to me also. The pink butterfly is another reminder of Hailey - I bought it for 'symbolic' meaning to wear to Hailey's memorial service. The diamond heart was the first piece of jewelry Josh bought me when we started dating (almost 9 years old now!). Lastly, the silver cross is from my dad and reminds me of him and my faith.
This next picture is Josh's locket he had made to put on his dog tags.
Next, this is the charm bracelet a woman bought me (I don't know her at all, but she was a co-worker of my mom's) and gave to me as a gift at Hailey's memorial service. The silver heart is engraved with Hailey's name.
Lastly, after Hailey passed away and I began looking for ways to help me remember Hailey and share her story, I found this bracelet from the Trisomy 18 Foundation. The 3 purple crystals represent the 3 copies of the 18th chromosome Hailey had. The 2 blue crystals represent Hailey's birth (they are the color of her birthstone - topaz for December). The 18 pearl stones represent the chromosome affected - the 18th.
I love wearing these pieces of jewelry because I feel like Hailey is still with me everyday, every where I go. I also love wearing them because it lets the world know that I have a daughter named Hailey, and if they ask me, I can tell them all about her... :) ..oh, and no I don't wear them all every day :)
On a slightly different note...I don't mind my stretch marks all that much anymore either - they are a good reminder of Hailey, that she comes from mine and Josh's flesh and blood, and the 9 months I spent 'carrying' my beautiful baby girl.
To help me 'overcome' these things I have several tangible reminders of her that I wear. And as much as I'm not a materialistic person, these items do mean the world to me. I'm holding on to anything I can that reminds me of her. My pictures, the clay imprint of Hailey's hand, my jewelry...tangible reminders.
When several of my teacher friends learned about Hailey's diagnosis of Trisomy 18 and that she didn't have much time with us, they came together and arranged for me to have a beautiful, unique reminder of Hailey in a necklace. This pendant necklace is made of silver and has Hailey's name written on the front (and "munchkin" on the back). The best part of it is that the woman who made it was able to take a scanned image of Hailey's footprint from the hospital and make it into a miniaturized imprint in the silver pendant. Here is a picture of it. I absolutely love it! My little Hailey's footprint :)
The next reminder I wear is the locket I bought after Hailey had passed away. Below is a picture of the locket and you can see Hailey's picture inside. The other 'charms' on the necklace are very significant to me also. The pink butterfly is another reminder of Hailey - I bought it for 'symbolic' meaning to wear to Hailey's memorial service. The diamond heart was the first piece of jewelry Josh bought me when we started dating (almost 9 years old now!). Lastly, the silver cross is from my dad and reminds me of him and my faith.
This next picture is Josh's locket he had made to put on his dog tags.
Next, this is the charm bracelet a woman bought me (I don't know her at all, but she was a co-worker of my mom's) and gave to me as a gift at Hailey's memorial service. The silver heart is engraved with Hailey's name.
Lastly, after Hailey passed away and I began looking for ways to help me remember Hailey and share her story, I found this bracelet from the Trisomy 18 Foundation. The 3 purple crystals represent the 3 copies of the 18th chromosome Hailey had. The 2 blue crystals represent Hailey's birth (they are the color of her birthstone - topaz for December). The 18 pearl stones represent the chromosome affected - the 18th.
I love wearing these pieces of jewelry because I feel like Hailey is still with me everyday, every where I go. I also love wearing them because it lets the world know that I have a daughter named Hailey, and if they ask me, I can tell them all about her... :) ..oh, and no I don't wear them all every day :)
On a slightly different note...I don't mind my stretch marks all that much anymore either - they are a good reminder of Hailey, that she comes from mine and Josh's flesh and blood, and the 9 months I spent 'carrying' my beautiful baby girl.
Tangible Reminders of Hailey
As I often write, the things I fear or worry about the most are forgetting Hailey, other people forgetting or not knowing Hailey, etc. - basically, if life were to be like Hailey never existed.
To help me 'overcome' these things I have several tangible reminders of her that I wear. And as much as I'm not a materialistic person, these items do mean the world to me. I'm holding on to anything I can that reminds me of her. My pictures, the clay imprint of Hailey's hand, my jewelry...tangible reminders.
When several of my teacher friends learned about Hailey's diagnosis of Trisomy 18 and that she didn't have much time with us, they came together and arranged for me to have a beautiful, unique reminder of Hailey in a necklace. This pendant necklace is made of silver and has Hailey's name written on the front (and "munchkin" on the back). The best part of it is that the woman who made it was able to take a scanned image of Hailey's footprint from the hospital and make it into a miniaturized imprint in the silver pendant. Here is a picture of it. I absolutely love it! My little Hailey's footprint :)
The next reminder I wear is the locket I bought after Hailey had passed away. Below is a picture of the locket and you can see Hailey's picture inside. The other 'charms' on the necklace are very significant to me also. The pink butterfly is another reminder of Hailey - I bought it for 'symbolic' meaning to wear to Hailey's memorial service. The diamond heart was the first piece of jewelry Josh bought me when we started dating (almost 9 years old now!). Lastly, the silver cross is from my dad and reminds me of him and my faith.
This next picture is Josh's locket he had made to put on his dog tags.
Next, this is the charm bracelet a woman bought me (I don't know her at all, but she was a co-worker of my mom's) and gave to me as a gift at Hailey's memorial service. The silver heart is engraved with Hailey's name.
Lastly, after Hailey passed away and I began looking for ways to help me remember Hailey and share her story, I found this bracelet from the Trisomy 18 Foundation. The 3 purple crystals represent the 3 copies of the 18th chromosome Hailey had. The 2 blue crystals represent Hailey's birth (they are the color of her birthstone - topaz for December). The 18 pearl stones represent the chromosome affected - the 18th.
I love wearing these pieces of jewelry because I feel like Hailey is still with me everyday, every where I go. I also love wearing them because it lets the world know that I have a daughter named Hailey, and if they ask me, I can tell them all about her... :) ..oh, and no I don't wear them all every day :)
On a slightly different note...I don't mind my stretch marks all that much anymore either - they are a good reminder of Hailey, that she comes from mine and Josh's flesh and blood, and the 9 months I spent 'carrying' my beautiful baby girl.
To help me 'overcome' these things I have several tangible reminders of her that I wear. And as much as I'm not a materialistic person, these items do mean the world to me. I'm holding on to anything I can that reminds me of her. My pictures, the clay imprint of Hailey's hand, my jewelry...tangible reminders.
When several of my teacher friends learned about Hailey's diagnosis of Trisomy 18 and that she didn't have much time with us, they came together and arranged for me to have a beautiful, unique reminder of Hailey in a necklace. This pendant necklace is made of silver and has Hailey's name written on the front (and "munchkin" on the back). The best part of it is that the woman who made it was able to take a scanned image of Hailey's footprint from the hospital and make it into a miniaturized imprint in the silver pendant. Here is a picture of it. I absolutely love it! My little Hailey's footprint :)
The next reminder I wear is the locket I bought after Hailey had passed away. Below is a picture of the locket and you can see Hailey's picture inside. The other 'charms' on the necklace are very significant to me also. The pink butterfly is another reminder of Hailey - I bought it for 'symbolic' meaning to wear to Hailey's memorial service. The diamond heart was the first piece of jewelry Josh bought me when we started dating (almost 9 years old now!). Lastly, the silver cross is from my dad and reminds me of him and my faith.
This next picture is Josh's locket he had made to put on his dog tags.
Next, this is the charm bracelet a woman bought me (I don't know her at all, but she was a co-worker of my mom's) and gave to me as a gift at Hailey's memorial service. The silver heart is engraved with Hailey's name.
Lastly, after Hailey passed away and I began looking for ways to help me remember Hailey and share her story, I found this bracelet from the Trisomy 18 Foundation. The 3 purple crystals represent the 3 copies of the 18th chromosome Hailey had. The 2 blue crystals represent Hailey's birth (they are the color of her birthstone - topaz for December). The 18 pearl stones represent the chromosome affected - the 18th.
I love wearing these pieces of jewelry because I feel like Hailey is still with me everyday, every where I go. I also love wearing them because it lets the world know that I have a daughter named Hailey, and if they ask me, I can tell them all about her... :) ..oh, and no I don't wear them all every day :)
On a slightly different note...I don't mind my stretch marks all that much anymore either - they are a good reminder of Hailey, that she comes from mine and Josh's flesh and blood, and the 9 months I spent 'carrying' my beautiful baby girl.
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