Tonight, I Remember...

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.  It is after 9:00 p.m. and I just lit a candle in memory of my three precious babies in heaven; Chloe, Jesse, and Riyah Mae.  I sit here sipping on a warm cup of coffee as the scent of baked french toast [the candle] permeates the room.  Quiet.  Still.  Silent.  Peace.

I reflect upon the events of the weekend I spent with some special women in my neighbor state; women who had to say goodbye too soon.  Women, young and old, who came together for one specific purpose on this sunny fall morning.  To remember.  And what a gift to share in that with each of them.  

Back home, in the quietness of my home, in the stillness of the night, and in the silence of my thoughts, I remember.  Words are few, to be honest.  They are hard to come by when there are no words to truly express all that I wish to convey.  I could share the hurt and the pain surrounding the losses I've endured over these past 5 1/2 years, but I won't.  Because tonight, I remember...and it is good.  It is good because He is good.  My God who never changes, who holds my heart in His hands, and who has given me a ministry out of my mess.  

Jesus, hug my babies tight tonight.  

***

If you did something special to honor your baby(ies) for National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, please feel free to share in the comments.  I'd love to hear about it!

Birthday Party in Heaven...

I see it so clearly; an innocent laugh, flowing brown locks and eyes as deep dark as the sea, her round face lit up by the light of the candles as angels sing nearby. Many people are there, young and old alike. Her baby siblings are with her too, held by Grandma, as they watch their big sister smile and blow out the candles. It's her special day; a celebration of the day Chloe was born and went to be with Jesus. He is with her. She seems so happy. Today, there was a birthday party in heaven.

I can't assert to know exactly what heaven is like or claim to know how people look or whether or not they celebrate birthdays. However, it brings me comfort to think about what it might be like. I think back to the time of Chloe's birth. That was the best day and the worst day all at once. It seems like yesterday that I felt her tiny fingers clench around my thumb. She opened her tiny mouth and took the tiniest little breaths as I nuzzled close to her and kissed her cheeks. I remember the warmth of her body's skin against my own. She was fragile, but so strong. Strong enough to be born. Strong enough to hang on for 45 minutes, all the while being cuddled and hugged and kissed and loved. She fit perfectly across my chest and her head rested against my cheek as Justin lay by my side embracing us both. I remember it all so vividly and I would not trade a moment of that time for the world.

The breathing became sporadic. Movement began to cease. I knew she was fading fast and nothing could be done. All I wanted was more time. When our nurse checked her heartbeat upon my request, she despairingly gazed at me and said, "She's gone." I knew it was coming, my mind was prepared for those words, but my heart ached with a piercing blow as they spewed forth from her mouth. It was real. She was really gone. This fact was solidified when just moments later the nurse announced, "Time of death: 3:55 p.m." Still I knew that though she was absent from her physical body, a precious vessel, the special part of Chloe was with her Jesus. In that, I found great comfort. Yet, the pain was real and remains a reality to this day...five years later.

As I think about the significance of the day, I am flooded with emotion. I look back and could never have imagined the impact she'd have. I could never have known how much she'd teach me. It would have been preposterous to think that her tiny little life would have made such a big impact. Our God is a big God. He does things we don't expect. He takes something terribly ugly, like the death of a baby, and turns it into a thing of beauty.

God did some amazing things in my life during that time. He continues to amaze me over and over again! I could go on and on about the many ways in which His handiwork unfolded, but today, I want to leave you with one precious story that I cherish...

Just months before we received the news of Chloe's diagnosis and impending death, God formed a very special friendship between me and an unlikely friend. Jen, over a decade older than me (yup, I said it!), and I were placed together in an office during our graduate studies at Iowa State. During that time we spent together in the office, God used her in a miraculous way to minister to my hopeless soul. Grief-stricken and desperate for comfort, He placed her in my path for a purpose. I didn't know at the time that it would be to point me back to my first love, Jesus, from whom I had strayed. I couldn't have predicted it would be to invite me to a church where I would hear and respond to the Truth of the Gospel. I would never have guessed that just a few short months later she would stand in a school hallway hand in hand with me and my husband, Justin, as he surrendered his life to Christ as tears streamed down each of our faces. It was unfathomable to think that she would pick up the pieces when I went through two subsequent miscarriages. There with me to pray and cry and stay up all night talking, on her birthday no less, when I miscarried Jesse at 6 weeks along. Then just a few months later to clear her schedule, cancel her classes and take my kids for a few days when Riyah Mae went to be with Jesus. She herself has a baby in heaven, gone too soon, yet loved and remembered. Friend. Mentor. Fellow Mommy. Sister in Christ. This is what she is to me...such a blessing.

Now, today and forevermore May 11 is a cherished day to us both. Today, May 11, 2011 her dad ~ the man who pointed her to Christ ~ went home to be with Jesus. This calls to mind a treasured memory I have of Chuck, a man of God with a boldness for Christ. Shortly after I met him, within a few months of when Chloe died, he shared these verses with me to provide comfort...

"The righteous man perishes, and no one takes it to heart; devout men are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death."

Isaiah 57:1-2

What an amazing thing to be able to share this story and these verses with Jen as she stood by her dad's side last night after a fight with cancer, waiting for him to depart and be with His Savior. Today, I received word from Jen of his earthly death, followed up by a praise that He was with Jesus and with Chloe on her special day. I think about this heavenly birthday party... and amidst the glow of the candles, surrounded by children and angels and our blessed Savior, there's Chuck ~ heaven's newest resident, holding a grandbaby in his arms, telling Chloe about the legacy she has left on earth. All the while, his legacy continues on earth, in life and in death, all for the glory of God.

Forever and Always...

Many of you may be familiar with these words from a well-known children's book...

I'll love you forever

I'll like you for always

As long as I'm living

My baby you'll be

(by Robert Munsch, Love You Forever)

I happen to own the book. I've read it many-a-times to my own children. It's a story of a mother's love for her growing son. He grows into a man and eventually the tables are turned as he rocks his aging mother repeating the words he continually heard her say, "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living my Mommy you'll be."

It stings to think that we never had the chance to read this book, nor any other children's books, to our babies in heaven. It hurts to know that they will never be able to call us Mommy. It pains me even still to ponder the oh so brief lives they had. Despite the lack of time, the love runs deep. Forever and Always. The familiar words to this book, coupled with an encounter I had over the weekend truly spoke to me.

This weekend, my husband and I had the amazing blessing of being able to attend a marriage conference put on by a network of three churches, including our own. The featured speaker and his wife are celebrating 50 years of marriage together this year. Forever and Always. Together, they shared a bit of their journey with the approximately 100 couples in attendance. They talked about God's sovereign hand in their lives to bring them together as one, as well as the ministry they share as a Pastor and pastor's wife. Carol, a sweet woman with a fragile voice, but so much gusto was absolutely captivating. She was one of those people who you can just look at and see Jesus. I mean really see Him as He shines through her. She said two things that stood out to me as she gave a bit of background about her family; 1) She has 4 grandchildren and one in heaven, and 2) Her first child is in heaven. Forever and Always. She didn't forget. Neither will I. Neither will you.

Here stood a 70-year-old woman who chose to acknowledge her own baby in heaven. A baby who had gone there nearly 50 years before. Forever and Always. She stood before us with a light in her eyes and a loving glow as she also chose to share that she has a grandchild in heaven too. Forever and Always. That's what a mother's love is, no matter how brief the time she had with her child. As a Mommy to three babies in heaven, my heart can cry for them the same words I've read over and over to my living children...

I'll love you forever

I'll like you for always

As long as I'm living

My baby you'll be

Forever and Always.

The same is true for God's love. It's Forever and Always and so much more! To try to sum up the vast measure of God's love for His children is impossible for our human minds to comprehend. Yet with God's love, there too is a book that gives us a very clear picture. His Word, the Bible. From Scripture we know that God's love...

...endures forever (Psalm 136:26)

...is unfailing (Psalm 52:8)

...brings salvation for the world (John 3:16)

...cannot be taken from us who are in Christ (Romans 8:39)

...is rich in mercy (Ephesians 2:4)

...surpasses knowledge (Ephesians 3:19)

...God Himself is love (1 John 4:8)

...is full of grace, encouragement and hope (2 Thessalonians 2:16)

...is sacrificial (1 John 4:9-10)

God's love. Forever and Always and so much more amazing than we can fathom.

"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!"

1 John 3:1

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.

***

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!

***

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...

***

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!

***

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!

***

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.

***

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.

Gifts from Riyah Mae...

One year ago, to date, Riyah Mae went to be with Jesus. I vowed then, as I do now, that God would still be my God. You can read about that here.

This past year has raced past. I finished school (finally), we have our house on the market, and I am excited about new adventures on the horizon. The Lord has blessed Mommies with Hope in ways I couldn't have imagined, and through that, I have had the amazing privilege of meeting and ministering to some very special women. As a part of my walk, I constantly seek to find the "gifts" left behind by my babies. This can be difficult in a time of grief, but difficult does not equal impossible. So today, as a tribute to Riyah, I want to share just a few "gifts" that I have discovered along the way. I trust there will be many more to come.

She brought us joy!

In the weeks and months that we new and expected her arrival, we were so joyful. The thought of another little one was a blessing from heaven. Gabe understood and was excited. Aiyana was oblivious. Still, we loved her from the moment we knew of her tiny life growing inside of me and we were thrilled! We certainly rejoice for her heavenly dwelling!

She grew us!

When the ultrasound revealed that she had already gone to be with Jesus, it didn't seem possible that we could endure another loss. It didn't make sense as to why she was gone. Rather than a search for answers and explanations, we were at peace with her passing. She grew us. We rested in our Savior, not the circumstances. Yes, it hurt...very deeply. Still, we trusted God would use her brief life for something wonderfully glorious, and this my friends, is truly a gift.

She makes heaven look sweeter!

Any of us who have a baby in heaven certainly has a longing for heaven to some degree. I can't venture to say that I know what heaven will be like, but I do know two things for sure: 1) Jesus has welcomed each of my babies into His dwelling place upon their earthly departures, and 2) One day, Jesus will call me home and I will go to them. Knowing they are there, gives me a greater longing for heaven. First and foremost, I will see my Savior face-to-face and drop to my knees in worship. Yet, I can't help but picture him holding my babies in His arms with Riyah Mae being the youngest of them all.

Today, we remember. I don't know whether we will do anything out of the ordinary, or whether we'll plan something special. I vow to take the day as it comes, yet all the while making the same commitment I did in that sterile exam room one year ago when I said, "God, whatever happens...I will still love you. You are still my God." He is the same today as He was yesterday and will be tomorrow...a Truth upon which I can rely!

We Remember...and it hurts

I had every intention of posting a special tribute to our children yesterday, October 15th, which was officially Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. In fact, I had a draft of said post started days in advance and was all geared up for a challenge for us each to do something in honor and remembrance of our own babies. Sometimes things don't go as planned, as is typically the case with grief. We experience sneaky grief moments, as written about recently, and sometimes we can only do what we can do. Such was the case yesterday.

I had it in my heart and mind to do something all week. I intended to recommend to you all to light a candle (the universal symbol of remembrance), release a balloon, have a gathering, or something of the like. By planning and purposing to do something on the special days we encounter, we are committed to following through. Yet, here I was, going about my day caught up in busyness of life, doing nothing. I should have certainly taken my own advice. All day long, my heart felt empty, yet my mind was going on to the next busy thing that needed to be done. The day drew on and still nothing purposeful or intentional to remember my babies. Still empty. I didn't even approach my Heavenly Father in prayer with my hurts, even though I know and will be the first to tell another mommy that He is so ready, willing, and eager to carry our burdens. Many times, my eyes welled up with tears, seemingly out of nowhere and I struggled to hold them back, feeling as if I didn't have the right to let them flow freely. I didn't know where all this was coming from and quite honestly, it took me by surprise.

The truth is...remembering can be tough. For many of us, pleasant memories of our babies who have died are cut short. We may have just a few short weeks or months of a joyful pregnancy to call to mind, and not much else. The thoughts of what might have been tend to overshadow the glimpse in time we had our babies with us. Others of us may have a few tangible mementos or keepsakes from our baby's birth and death, and these can serve as a meaningful reminder of our precious child. I have an entire shelf that houses the precious mementos, gifts, cards and the like that we have created and/or received over the years. Even Riyah's cremated remains are placed in this special shelf. As much comfort as it brings me to have these things and as thankful as I am to have them, there is nothing on this earth that can replace these babies or take away the pain of having had to say goodbye so soon. Nothing, that is, but Jesus.

It is good to remember. It is good to honor. It is good to cherish and to pay tribute. All of these things, especially on special days, are worthy of doing. I have gained comfort and peace in doing so over the years. Still, there is only One who brings complete joy and perfect peace and that's the Lord, Jesus. It's not until I realize, refocus, and realign my heart to see more of Him, that I can begin to feel true peace. So today, that's where I'm at. On my knees, at His feet...handing it all over to Him and finding comfort in the truth that He desires to love me just as I am. Broken.

"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."

Matthew 11:28