Another Chapter...

I look back over the past five years and am amazed at all that has taken place in my life.  Five summers ago, life was a blur as the grief was fresh and pain ran deep in the shadow of Chloe's birth and death.  Then, there were days that I didn't have the strength to even move myself from the couch.  I'd lie in bed at night waiting for Justin to fall asleep before I let the tears fall.  Sometimes, I'd shake so hard from crying that he'd wake up and just hold me.  The only words I could muster were, "It's not fair!  I just want her here!"  Some days it seemed there would be no reprieve from the grief.

View from my conference hotel room.

As I write this evening, I peer out the window of a hotel room in Wisconsin overlooking the Mississippi River and I feel an overwhelming sense of peace as I marvel at God's creation.  Without going into much detail, I will share that I am here for a conference as a part of my work, which is a two-day training to offer a hospital-based support group for couples who've experienced the loss of a baby through pregnancy or infant loss.  

It's odd being on the "other end" of this sort of thing; to sit in a room full of professionals who companion bereaved parents such as myself but who very likely have never experienced the loss of their own babies.  The presenters show videos, share stories, and provide information about how to help these families.  I take in the information, but my heart and my mind are in rewind as I remember.  I think back to the mementos created for Chloe and I feel bittersweetly blessed.  I think of Jesse who left this world far too soon; my baby who only few know about.  Then I remember miss Riyah Mae whose little heart stopped beating at the beginning of my second trimester.  So much loss.  So many memories.  So much pain.

Yet healing has come and peace envelopes me as I embrace this new chapter that God has written.  I would have never weaved these stories into the fabric of my life.  Still, my heavenly Father knows each and every detail as it has come to pass and as the pages turn.  He knew that He would use precious Chloe to help form Mommies with Hope.  He knew that her life would bring me back to His Son.  He knew that her life would lead her earthly daddy to eternal life.  He knew that He would build His kingdom through me.  He knew that doors would be open for the ministry to grow.  He knew that He would provide a way for me to share His promises with a world of mommies who so desperately need His Son.  He knew that He'd use me in my work at the funeral home - a place I would have never dreamt of working!  He knew that a partnership would form in a secular world where He could use me to really reach out and help others.  Only He knows how He will continue to use me, use this ministry, and use the stories as I embark on this new endeavor.  I am so thankful that He alone is the author and I trust Him as the pages continue to turn in yet another chapter...

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you; plans to give you a hope and a future.'"

Blessings

Many of you have probably had the privilege of hearing this beautiful song, Blessings, by Laura Story. If not, you will be blessed in hearing it below (be sure to pause the music on the playlist at the bottom of the blog first). The message of the song compels me to ponder the blessings I've experienced, even in the midst of loss. I pray it will do the same for you too. Just last week Deanna, one of the leaders for our Ames group, emailed me about this song and pulled the following quote from Laura Story's website as she commented about the song:

“The song shows that we still have more questions than answers,” Laura confesses. “But there’s a decision that I find God is asking us to make: whether we are going to choose to interpret our circumstances based on what we hold to be true about God, or whether we’re going to judge what we hold to be true about God based on our circumstances.” ~ Laura Story

Be Blessed, Mommies! And if you are so inclined, share the story of your "blessings" in the comments below...

Aftermath...

My wholehearted attempt to continue on with this story over a week ago has proved unsuccessful. I am, however, excited to share more with you today! :) To read the previous posts and get up to speed, click here and here.

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What do you think of when you hear the words funeral home? If you're anything like I used to be, your mind wanders to horrendous decor, odd smells, and an eery feeling of unease. This was my perception prior to my experience with Hamilton's. I was thankful to be proved wrong. To experience a place associated with death as a place of beautiful remembrance. To see a funeral service worker in a pale yellow suit. To feel comforted.

In the days and weeks that followed Chloe's funeral, I learned that Hamilton's was much more than a funeral home. I expected that they would care for Chloe's body, do the service, and that would be that. But it didn't stop there. I learned that there was a division of the company called the Academy of Grief and Loss, which provided a whole array of aftercare services to the families they served as well as to the community. By the time summer was coming to an end, just three short months since Chloe's death, our family was blessed by the opportunity to participate in three of their aftercare services; the Coping with Grief Symposium, Little Hands children's grief program, and Children's Tribute.

Coping with Grief Symposium

Shortly after Chloe died, we were invited to attend this event by Ann, our perinatal hospice nurse. She would have a display up at this event, and so would many others in the community. I could have never imagined that just a couple short years later, I would be standing at a Mommies with Hope display at this very event. Anyway, the grief was so fresh. It was just 3 1/2 weeks after Chloe had died and Justin and I attended this event. It was fabulous. We learned about how to effectively cope with our grief. For us, I think it was just helpful to have permission to grieve and to know that we were not the only ones experiencing it. At the end of the program, we were able to honor our precious Chloe with a candlelighting. As each person passed the flame of their candle, they said the name of the person whom they were remembering aloud. I light this candle in memory of my daughter, Chloe Marie. The words still ring in my mind. I've said them many times over thees last five years.

Little Hands

Another program we learned of in the aftermath of Chloe's death is Little Hands. This is a children's grief program for young children. We wanted to do all that we could to help Gabe, then 4-years-old, understand his grief and remember his baby sister. The three-day program was like everything else we had experienced at Hamiltons ~ wonderful! Gabe, though shy, was able to be around other children who had someone special in their lives die. As a family, we were encouraged to honor and to remember. Yes, remember! I've had others question this where Gabe was concerned. Comments like, "At least he's very young and maybe he'll forget all this happened" or "Are you sure you want him to be a part of all this?" referring to memorials or services. My response? Why would I not want my son to remember his sister? Chloe is a part of our family...she always will be. We will remember her. We will honor her. In Christ, we will see her again.

Children's Tribute

Held in late summer 0f 2006, after having experienced the Coping with Grief Symposium and after Gabe having attended Little Hands in July, we were invited to a Children's Tribute at the funeral home where Chloe's services were held. This tribute was to serve the recent families who had had babies die and who had used Hamilton's Funeral Home. The garden had been dedicated a year earlier in honor of baby Alan. His mommy, Holly, was the one who had helped us with Chloe's service. This particular location houses a beautiful garden, adorned with a 'garden dancer' to represent the children who have died. Each garden dancer has the child's name etched out of it. I know my words do not do justice to explaining this wonderful event, or the beautiful garden dancers, so be sure to click on the link above to see and read more about it. Here is a picture of Gabe in the garden next to Chloe's garden dancer...

An interesting thing happened at the Children's Tribute. Funny, really. We had experienced a beautiful afternoon of remembrance, enjoyed the best butterfly sugar cookies you could imagine, and were blessed by the gift of Chloe's garden dancer to bring home. All of that was wonderful. But another thing happened...something I'll never forget. After the program and while spending some time outside in the garden, I struck up a conversation with Trudy. I had seen Trudy a couple of times by now through all the events we had gone to at Hamilton's. Trudy helped lead the symposium and was one of the helpers at the Little Hands program. Trudy was the Director of Hamilton's Academy of Grief and Loss. I was so impressed by the Academy's services and so blessed to be a recipient, that I had to know more, so I kept asking questions. I remember asking something about employment in the Academy and Trudy informed me that she had a part-time Coordinator, but that the position was vacant and would need to be filled in the near future. Without hesitation, I boldly stated, "Hire me!" While I wasn't hired right away, I did find myself employed as the Academy Coordinator 6 months later!

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More to come in the days ahead...stay tuned!

The Baby Section...the story continues

If you are just popping in, welcome! Today, I am picking up where I left off yesterday. I am sharing the story of how God has made beauty out of ashes as I reminisce on my first interactions with Hamilton's Funeral Home, now my place of employment. Read on...

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We slowly walked out the doors of the funeral home on that cold and windy May day. It was unseasonably cold and windy, complementing the storm I felt raging in my heart. My son, then 4 years old, was dressed in a black suit, just like his daddy. Daddy's tie was pink...for Chloe. The three of us filed into the very back of the limousine as Chloe's uncles carefully placed her 3-foot pink casket on the seat in front of us. As we drove to the cemetery, I was numb. I don't recall talking. I can't remember crying. I just remember feeling empty. I was going through the motions of everything that needed to be done that day. Have you been there?

Soon, we turned into the cemetery following the curve around a large duck pond, continuing on the winding road to the far end of the cemetery. We passed hundreds of graves. Some old, some new. Many were embellished with Mother's Day memorabilia and others were seemingly unkempt. Heading back to the "baby section" I braced myself as I saw the blue tent in the distance, knowing that this was where we were headed. This was where Chloe would be buried. This was where we would say goodbye.

When we arrived we walked behind Chloe's casket, carried again by her uncles, and step by step we came closer to the unearthed section of land where she would be laid to rest. With heads bowed low, my husband and I walked hand-in-hand, dreading what was to come. I just wanted it to be over. We sat front and center and in all honesty, the rest is a blur.

The baby section, though oh so very ugly that day, truly is a beautiful place. We had no idea that such an area existed, but Holly and Margo informed us of this when we prearranged, just one week prior. In fact, we had even gone out to the cemetery to see the baby section, just days before Chloe's birth and death. This section, in particular, is quite precious. The entire area is aligned with miniature lilac bushes and a paved path leads straight through the middle of the area, nearly right up to Chloe's grave. Just behind her grave is a full-grown shade tree, which we have had our share of picnics under. In time, after that cold and windy May day, we have made memories and experienced treasured family time visiting her grave. We have laughed and we have cried. We've sat in silence and prayed aloud. We have cleaned it up and adorned it with child-like decor. For quite a time, it became a ritual to take bubbles to the cemetery, where Gabe would blow bubbles for his baby sister. We were also sure to bring stale bread to feed the ducks and geese on our way out. And what a comfort it has been for me to know that the final resting place of her body is amongst others like her, who have gone much too soon. I believe with all my heart that she, the person of who she is [because she most certainly was a person!] is with Jesus. Yet, what a gift to have a place to go, to remember, and to honor her life.

Justin and Gabe blowing bubbles at the cemetery near Chloe's grave. See the miniature lilac bushes in the background? :)

At the duck pond at the cemetery. We have had many experiences with the ducks and geese here, sometimes resulting in a quick getaway to the car once we've run out of bread!

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Tomorrow, more on the amazing aftercare experiences I had with Hamilton's and my bold plea for employment! :)

Been a While...Update and Reminiscing

If your New Year is anything like mine, then you have hit the ground running! While not my typical blog post, I want to share a little bit with you about what I've been doing and then tie it back to why I feel this is pertinent to this blog. And just in case you were curious....my New Year's resolution was not to quit writing. Read on, and hopefully you'll have it in your heart to forgive me for my writing hiatus!

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In recent years, I finished up my graduate studies while simultaneously discovering my love for teaching. I had many great opportunities to teach at the University-level, as well as at a nearby community college. I developed wonderful connections with my students over the years and am extremely blessed by those experiences. Along the way, I experienced the death of my daughter, Chloe (May, 2006) and then had two miscarriages in 2009. Chloe's life and death truly influenced my chosen career path as I realized my passion for helping others who were grieving.

After much debate about "what's next," having finished graduate school in May, I decided to leave teaching and begin my career with Hamilton's Academy of Grief and Loss. In fact, I had worked there before for a time, assisting the director with the many grief-related events and services offered to the community. I absolutely loved it! However, I was trying to finish school and was pregnant with a healthy baby, so something had to give. Now, a few short years later, I have found myself back at Hamilton's as I train to become the next Director of the Academy. I tell you all this because there really is a great story behind it that not everyone is aware of. The story, I feel, is truly a message of God's redeeming work in our lives...

The story begins nearly five years ago. I would have been pregnant with Chloe at this time, expecting the birth of a healthy baby. In February of 2006, we received news that she would not live long after birth, if she made it to birth, due to a chromosomal abnormality and accompanying brain condition. Choosing to continue the pregnancy for as long as possible, and desiring to plan her funeral ahead of time, we were put in touch with Hamilton's Funeral Home, which came highly recommended. On May 8th, 2006, we met with two of the most caring women, Margo and Holly, to prearrange Chloe's funeral. Since that time, Holly has become a dear friend. We connected right away because sadly, she too knows the pain of having to bury a child. Her son, Alan, died at 5 1/2 months old after his second heart surgery. Friday was the anniversary date of his death. I never got to know this lil' guy, but he is so special to me for a number of reasons.

Just three short days after first meeting with Hamilton's, Chloe was born into this world. Much too quickly, she went to be with Jesus. We were blessed to have been able to make her arrangements ahead of time. We were blessed even more in the days that followed. Chloe died on a Thursday. We decided to have her visitation on a Sunday evening with the funeral on Monday morning. After the plans were set, we realized that Sunday was, in fact, Mother's Day. It seems sad to think about, and sometimes it is, but at the same time I am so thankful that I got to spend time holding Chloe in my arms on the one Mother's Day I had with her. What a treasured gift.

The funeral was surreal. We had an open casket and Chloe rested in the cuddliest blankies we could find, clothed in a pretty pink dress and her special bonnet. She was buried with a few small items, including a small pink New Testament bible, a doll, and a special necklace around her neck. The necklace was a gold chain with a heart charm that had the word "me" engraved on it. This small heart was a breakaway piece from a larger heart, which I wear around my neck, engraved with the word, "mommy." I love that we share this. Another thing I remember about the funeral is that Holly wore a pale yellow suit. I know that may seem like an odd thing to remember, but it really stood out to me. It was comforting. It was a small ray of sunshine on a very dark day. I will never forget that.

Before I knew it, the service was over and people were proceeding out to the beautiful words of Michael W. Smith's "This Was Her Time." I remember crying so loudly when the time came for my brother and brother-in-law to carry their baby niece, my precious Chloe Marie, out to the waiting limousine. This was it. We were leaving this place to go and bury our child.

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The story doesn't end here...stay tuned in the days ahead as I share more on the redeeming work of God in and through this situation. He has truly blessed, even in this.

Another Year...

If you've known me for a while, then you probably know that I've often remarked about how New Year's tends to be a difficult time of the year for me, personally. In fact, I recall the first year of holidays after Chloe's birth and death and was shocked by the impact of New Year's. After all, it's a time for new beginnings and resolutions. For a grieving mommy, however, it can be a reminder that time and people are moving on, yet she continues to long for her baby.

This year marks the fifth New Year since Chloe's birth and death. The first two years were the most difficult, with the second year being the worst. Last year wasn't the greatest either, in light of my miscarriages of Jesse and Riyah in 2009. Yet, with each passing year, I am able to sense God's peace and purpose through each of my babies' lives. Several months ago, a dear and precious friend gently reminded me that on earth, it would literally be impossible to have all of my children since some of the pregnancies overlapped. However, I can rest in the knowledge that God, who is rich in mercy, has welcomed each one of my babies into His Kingdom already! Because my husband and I know Christ as our Savior, we have full assurance in reuniting with each of them when He calls us home. Lord willing, our two living children will come to know Jesus at the earliest possible age, and they too will be with us all for eternity! What a family reunion that will be!

Especially in difficult times, I believe it is important to have an eternal perspective. That being said, it can be tough when the grief is so raw and the pain is so real. So if you're like me, you may just be wondering HOW to face the day. With the New Year upon us, I want to focus the next few posts on truths from God's Word as well as ways in which we can practically live out such truths. So, today, and throughout the next week, each post will present a biblical truth and a corresponding practical tactic for living it out. The purpose is to comfort and equip us with God's Word, while also challenging us to do something with meaning as we usher in the New Year.

Without further ado, let's begin...

Biblical Truth

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail; they are new each morning. Great is your faithfulness."

Lamentations 3:23-23

I love these verses! At times, grief may seem to be all-consuming. God's love is greater. Because of such great love, we are not consumed! He has compassion for each one of us, whom He loves. Other translations use the word "mercies" in place of compassions...each of which are new each morning. Every day when we wake up, the Lord is near. He loves us. He never fails us. He is faithful. He wants to bless us each and every day with His mercies. Though we know this to be true from Scripture, it can be hard to feel this way. That's why it's important to rely on what is true, rather than our feelings. The next verse in this passage goes on to say, "The Lord is my portion." Here are some questions to ponder in light of this verse...Is He your portion each and every day? Do you rise each morning with the knowledge of God's love and compassion for you? Is He enough? The biblical truth shared above may seem to be "good for the moment" but how can I live like I know it to be true? How can I live victoriously, proclaiming "The Lord is my portion?" What does that even look like?

Practical Tactic

There are many ways that the questions posed above can be answered. In fact, the answer may be different for each one of us. I'm not here to offer a one-size-fits-all approach to living out God's truths in difficult times. I will, however, offer some practical tactics that everyone is able to try. I would love to hear additional ideas from you, my fellow mommies! Here are just a few of my thoughts...

1) Purpose to wake up 15 minutes earlier than usual each day. Begin your day in prayer, pouring your heart out to God. Remember, He has compassion for you!

2) Saturate yourself in God's Word. When we feel consumed by our grief, His Word is our ammunition and gives us the ability to "take captive every thought, making it obedient to Christ" (2 Corinthians 10:5). We can combat irrational thinking with God's Truth!

3) List the ways in which God has shown His love to you. Read over and reflect on this list and thank God in prayer.

4) Thank God for the blessings in your life. Purpose to find something to be thankful for. Ask God to be your portion for the day...the hour...the moment. He is faithful!

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I'd love to hear your thoughts...feel free to post in the comments!

And then we were done...

If you have been following this blog for the past few months, you know that we have been working through Becky Avella's book, And Then You Were Gone: Restoring a Broken Heart After Pregnancy Loss. Well...we have officially finished the book in our face-to-face study, and this post is the final post related to the book's final chapter titled "Now What? Facing the Future."

Before I move into the meat of this post as it relates to the book, I have to encourage each and every one of you to get Becky's book! If you have been impacted by pregnancy or infant loss, you will certainly be blessed by reading it. She very eloquently weaves in her own story while keeping the reader focused on sound, biblical truth. Also, if you have read her book, please log on to Amazon.com and write a review! This would be a wonderful blessing to her and I know she will treasure your words.

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Now what? Some of you may be struggling with a lack of explanation for your loss(es). Others of you may have information to move forward and have decisions to make about the future of your families. Still, others of you may have experienced yet another loss and are beginning to wonder whether you will be blessed with children to care for on this earth. We are all in different places and that's okay. Not any one of us has the exact same path laid out before us. We are unique. God, in His Sovereignty, has masterfully laid out each and every piece of our life's puzzle. As time goes by, He pieces each part together to make us complete. When we try to piece things together ourselves, parts become jumbled and the fit is not right. We have to get to a place where we let Him do the work.

In this chapter, Becky reminds us to "just do the next thing." I love this. It seems so simple and so basic, yet we muddy things up by always getting out ahead of ourselves to see the finished picture. She states, "Instead of being terrified by a future that is too overwhelming, just do the next thing that needs doing. Don't face the entirety of your future. Face today. Face this moment. In reality, it is all we really have" (p. 88). Also in this section of her chapter, Becky provides some great questions to ask yourself, such as...

Who does God want me to be today and what does He want me to do about it?

How will I live the life I am given today?

Additional questions that we came up with as a group to help us in this "face today" philosophy include...

What do I have to be thankful for today?

How can I bless someone else today?

How can I serve God today?

I believe the answer to any and all of these questions posed above lies in the truth of Matthew 6:33-34, which states...

"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. therefore do no worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Seeking Him, my Jesus, and His kingdom is my first priority. I can trust Him to work out all the other details. I can rest in knowing that He has it all under control. I don't need to look so far ahead because my Savior already knows and His plans are for good (Romans 8:28). This very notion reminds me of an old gospel song that my mom shared with me in recent months. You see, my maternal grandma went to be with Jesus in June of this past year. Mom told me that she always used to sing "One Day at a Time." The lyrics of the chorus are as follows:

One day at a time, sweet Jesus

That's all I'm asking from you.

Just give me the strength

To do everyday what I have to do.

Yesterday's gone, sweet Jesus

And tomorrow may never be mine.

Lord help me today, show me the way

One day at a time.

With that, I want to conclude this post with some final words from Becky. She urges us to trust God in writing our story and to get to a place where we can say, "My Jesus is enough." Of God's character, she writes: "He is out to love us, mold us, shape us, draw us to Himself and ultimately work out what is best for us individually and for the Kingdom as a whole." He truly is, ladies! He wants to bring us to His Son. He longs for a personal relationship with us through the sacrifice Christ. Can you honestly say, "My Jesus is enough?" Is He?

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More on this tomorrow, along with a special countdown to Christmas. Stay tuned and be blessed! For now, I would love to hear how you are "just doing the next thing." Share your wisdom in the comments!

Ultimate Healing

You may have read about my recent sneaky grief moment. I'd like to say that it was here, then gone, but that's not the case. What started as a moment late last week, permeated throughout the weekend. A wondering about and longing for my babies filled my heart more fully than in the recent past. A special date night with my oldest child, while certainly wonderful, led to thoughts of special dates with three children that would never happen this side of heaven. A Sunday church service filled with babies, children, and pregnant women that seemingly engulfed me as I sang, looking out into the congregation. Yet, the act of singing out to my Savior made all the mess of my grief fade away into the background.

Then, a sermon (click here to listen) about the transfiguration of Christ (Mark 2:9-12). Jesus revealed His true self to three of his disciples and they saw Him for who He was....certainly more glorious than any of us could imagine. At one point in the sermon, Pastor led us to the story in Mark 5 where a father seeks Jesus to heal his dead daughter. Reading the words, "Your daughter is dead", from verse 35 instantly brought me to tears. I've heard variations of those words....more than once.

In the ultrasound room with Chloe at 20 weeks along: Your daughter is going to die.

By phone with my nurse practitioner at six weeks along in my pregnancy: You are miscarrying.

In the same dreaded ultrasound room with Riyah at 13 1/2 weeks along: I'm so sorry, Teske...I don't see a heartbeat.

Like the man in the bible story, I trusted Jesus could and would miraculously heal, especially when I think about my experience with Chloe. In ways beyond my mere human comprehension, He most assuredly did.

I recently received an email seeking prayer for a woman who is faced with a situation similar to what we went through with Chloe. She is, in fact, being induced today, giving birth to a baby who is prognosed to die shortly after birth due to a brain condition. In my reply to this sweet friend who shared this request on behalf of her friend, I said the following:

"We too found out during our pregnancy that she [Chloe] would not survive after birth, due to a brain condition. I so ardently hoped and prayed for God to miraculously heal her, and believed He could. He provided ultimate healing by welcoming her home, 45 minutes after her birth."

I hoped for healing. He certainly was able to do so. He did not heal her in the way I had hoped. Rather, He provided ultimate healing. He welcomed her home. No more tears, crying, or pain (Revelation 21:4). Truly, she was healed. And even though He didn't heal her in the way I had hoped, He is still good! He is still loving! He is still caring. He is still compassionate. He is still Savior.

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Ladies, please lift up your prayers on behalf of a fellow "mommy" mentioned above. Out of respect for her privacy, I will not share her name, but God already knows. Pray for her as she meets her little one face-to-face today.