The first two nights after Doron joined our family bedtime was a piece of cake. In every way; it was easy, it was sweet, it was enjoyable. About the third night though Doron didn't want me anymore. At first when it came to bedtime he would lay his head on my chest and full out lay on top of me, with his tiny little body.
On night three, he didn't want to be anywhere near me. Since then, Doron has preferred Daddy. And by preferred, I mean - he cries like the worst is happening all over again unless Daddy is there to lay him down for naps or bedtime and be there when he wakes up from either. Even this afternoon when Doron woke up from his nap, I went in to get him and pick him up. He cried and cried and cried, huge tears, lots of snot - CRYING; knowing that Daddy is headed back to work this week and that we are going to have to figure this thing out I tried to distract him with his favorite snack. Nothing.. the tears would not stop coming. Only after going outside and getting Daddy, and being held by Daddy did the crying stop and he ate the snack I was still holding.
Doron loves Daddy. No doubt about that. And really, I have no doubt that he loves me too, but for some reason when it comes to sleeping he doesn't trust anyone like he trusts Daddy. And that's ok, because that's what he needs right now.
Tonight was different though. For some reason when we were putting Z down to bed, Doron got really jealous of her snuggling me. Doron wanted Mama. Since Daddy has only put Z to bed once since we got home from China, I picked up Doron and we cheerfully waved goodbye to everyone and headed downstairs to put Doron to bed.
He was so calm. I've never seen him so calm at bedtime. But I sang to him softly all my bedtime songs, twice. And then we laid down in bed together, like we did the first night we had him. I took off my glasses and he touched my face and he called me Nai Nai. It's a small glimpse into his little mind, what all of this must feel like to him.
His Nai Nai is his foster mom. At 18 months old our son was placed in a foster home for 7 months while we waited to be able to travel and get him. During this time he bonded really well with his foster mom, I imagine she must have sang to him quite a lot. She loved him very much. Nai Nai has long straight hair, similar to mine and sometimes I wonder if I was too similar to her for awhile. That he had to learn to separate her and I. Tonight, with my glasses off and half asleep he thought I was Nai Nai and he fell asleep peacefully in my arms.
Our little baby has endured quite a lot in his short life. It can be hard to understand all that our son has gone through because in all my life I haven't suffered the loss that he has. I hope and pray that as he grows, we are able to help him fully process and understand his past, his present, and his future. I pray that God gives him peace as he works out all that he endured. I know it will be a lifelong journey for him to mourn what was and what will never be, and accept what is and all that can be.
Goodnight friends.
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
6.14.2015
5.02.2014
Isaiah, we remember you.
It's hard to believe where we were just a year ago. The weather was certainly nicer than it has been, but the weather isn't really what's on my mind. It was a year ago that I woke up early in the morning to cramping in a regular pattern. The cramps became more and more intense: paralyzed by pain, my mind couldn't comprehend what was really happening, while my husband prayed for a miracle.
Isaiah, we met you too soon. You're not just a number in a line-up of recurrent miscarriages for us. You're a God-given reminder of life given and life taken away. You put life to the lives of those like you that have been lost. You put a face and a name to children whose faces and names have not yet been seen or heard.
We have survived, although I wasn't sure I could. We have recovered, but will never forget.
As we move on to the next phase and stage of our lives, we see reminders of you everywhere we go. Spring brings blossoms of bleeding hearts just over where your body rests. A small statue will be placed outside soon, to mark where we laid our eyes upon you one last time. Oh little boy, you were wanted. You were cherished. We live full, happy lives here, but yearn for the days when we are a complete family; when in heaven there are no more tears, no more sadness; where we see all of our children, completely whole.
It is hard to believe, with where we are now, that it has only been one year since we felt so much pain. It was so difficult for me to imagine being the same again. It was difficult for me to imagine not saying your name every day. Darling, I still think of you, nearly every day. I still miss you, nearly every day. My days and life are full, but you are still missing.
I am happy, I am joyful, but I will never not miss having you in my life.
 |
| 11 weeks gestation |
11.18.2013
Step-by-step...
I knew I would blog this week, there is so much to say, but I haven't known how to say it.
Really, there hasn't been a whole lot to report. I made a surprise trip to Arkansas two weekends ago to surprise my mom for her birthday! (and if I was really great at taking pictures I'd have some for you, but wrangling two kids by myself for a 12 hr drive was enough).
On our way to Arkansas we got the news that our application had been accepted by the agency and we were ready to move on with the next step! That step was signing a lot of paperwork...
Officially, the paperwork has been signed and mailed, and according to the United States Postal Service should arrive at our agency's head office on Thursday. Woohoo!
I really feel God's hand in all of this. Down to every last tiny, seemingly unimportant detail like our paperwork arriving on Thursday, November 21.
A little over 6 months ago we miscarried a little boy, Isaiah. Many of you have seen our posts and have shown us so much support. Amazingly, our hearts have healed so well from this loss, which I know is nothing short of God's divine goodness. We were blessed to have a memorial service for him, and because of this, his loss helped bring closure to us from 7 years of miscarriages.
We had begun looking into adoption in January of this year, long before we knew we were expecting. With our pregnancy we put adoption off to the side for awhile. When we lost Isaiah, and were ready to pursue adoption again, I knew I would not be fully ready until we had passed and mourned his due date. This Wednesday, November 20, is Isaiah's due date.
He sees us, he hears us. He knows exactly who we are, and where we are in our journey. God does not take a single thing for granted.
Sunday, one of our pastor's reminded us that "Our God takes impossibilities and makes them possibilities." That is so true. From step one he has taken what seems impossible to us and opened a door and made it a possibility. He has closed doors that we may have wanted to step through, knowing it wasn't the right plan for us. We are completely trusting Him as we take one more step toward our possibility.
Today we also remember our 2nd miscarriage. Our little baby, Tiny, was miscarried on November 18, 2006. Sometimes I wonder when I will stop remembering these anniversaries, but my heart feels that as long as we live, we won't. These little ones, a part of our lives for an incredibly too short amount of time, are a part of us. We lost Tiny while at a FamilyLife Marriage Conference, we were a little over 6 weeks along.
So, this week is strangely bittersweet. We mourn a lot of loss but look forward with tempered anticipation for all that is to come.
Really, there hasn't been a whole lot to report. I made a surprise trip to Arkansas two weekends ago to surprise my mom for her birthday! (and if I was really great at taking pictures I'd have some for you, but wrangling two kids by myself for a 12 hr drive was enough).
On our way to Arkansas we got the news that our application had been accepted by the agency and we were ready to move on with the next step! That step was signing a lot of paperwork...
Officially, the paperwork has been signed and mailed, and according to the United States Postal Service should arrive at our agency's head office on Thursday. Woohoo!
I really feel God's hand in all of this. Down to every last tiny, seemingly unimportant detail like our paperwork arriving on Thursday, November 21.
A little over 6 months ago we miscarried a little boy, Isaiah. Many of you have seen our posts and have shown us so much support. Amazingly, our hearts have healed so well from this loss, which I know is nothing short of God's divine goodness. We were blessed to have a memorial service for him, and because of this, his loss helped bring closure to us from 7 years of miscarriages.
We had begun looking into adoption in January of this year, long before we knew we were expecting. With our pregnancy we put adoption off to the side for awhile. When we lost Isaiah, and were ready to pursue adoption again, I knew I would not be fully ready until we had passed and mourned his due date. This Wednesday, November 20, is Isaiah's due date.
He sees us, he hears us. He knows exactly who we are, and where we are in our journey. God does not take a single thing for granted.
Sunday, one of our pastor's reminded us that "Our God takes impossibilities and makes them possibilities." That is so true. From step one he has taken what seems impossible to us and opened a door and made it a possibility. He has closed doors that we may have wanted to step through, knowing it wasn't the right plan for us. We are completely trusting Him as we take one more step toward our possibility.
Today we also remember our 2nd miscarriage. Our little baby, Tiny, was miscarried on November 18, 2006. Sometimes I wonder when I will stop remembering these anniversaries, but my heart feels that as long as we live, we won't. These little ones, a part of our lives for an incredibly too short amount of time, are a part of us. We lost Tiny while at a FamilyLife Marriage Conference, we were a little over 6 weeks along.
So, this week is strangely bittersweet. We mourn a lot of loss but look forward with tempered anticipation for all that is to come.
8.25.2013
Help me find it
Wasting time on facebook tonight, a friend had posted this song.
It is by Sidewalk Prophets, and not one I had heard before, but it fits exactly how we feel right now.
I can't remember who I have told what to, so if I'm repeating myself I will edit it later. Our final test results for the last blood test we needed done to check for an immun... uh, there are words I don't know or understand about to be said - immuno - something... Essentially, here's the down-low:
In January of 2007 we had a giant gammot of blood tests done to determine potential causes for our recurrent miscarriages. They checked for things like Lupus, MTHFR, and some other things... Something to the effect of, if your immune system attacks the baby it causes tiny blood clots in the placenta and the baby cannot get the oxygen and nutrients it needs and dies, and then you miscarry. Well, back in 2007 they didn't know as much as they know now, so there is another test in that protocol that I hadn't had done. The Beta 2 Glycoproteins test. I had another test done (and I can't remember what it was called either) - because in 2007 my results tested "intermediate" which really doesn't mean anything, and would not be a cause of miscarriage but they retested it anyway.
Because the things they tested this time had a treatment, if I tested positive for either of them my miscarriage risk would drop to 15 -20 % (normal for most women) if I were to get pregnant and follow the treatment protocol.
However, I tested in the normal range for both of these. Which is good, I'm glad I don't have anything wrong with me, but it still leaves us looking for answers. It also leaves us with a miscarriage risk of 30-50% because of our history.
So, now we are at a crossroads with big decisions to make. And to be honest, for the first time in months my husband and I are on the same page.
We both agree, we're on the "wait and see" page. We don't know what to do. So for now, we wait for what God might show us. Praying for big answers in the next few months - the kind with giant flashing signs that say "THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO!"
This song says exactly what I'm thinking and feeling tonight. Thank you so much for all of your prayers on this journey, we really do appreciate all of them!
It is by Sidewalk Prophets, and not one I had heard before, but it fits exactly how we feel right now.
I can't remember who I have told what to, so if I'm repeating myself I will edit it later. Our final test results for the last blood test we needed done to check for an immun... uh, there are words I don't know or understand about to be said - immuno - something... Essentially, here's the down-low:
In January of 2007 we had a giant gammot of blood tests done to determine potential causes for our recurrent miscarriages. They checked for things like Lupus, MTHFR, and some other things... Something to the effect of, if your immune system attacks the baby it causes tiny blood clots in the placenta and the baby cannot get the oxygen and nutrients it needs and dies, and then you miscarry. Well, back in 2007 they didn't know as much as they know now, so there is another test in that protocol that I hadn't had done. The Beta 2 Glycoproteins test. I had another test done (and I can't remember what it was called either) - because in 2007 my results tested "intermediate" which really doesn't mean anything, and would not be a cause of miscarriage but they retested it anyway.
Because the things they tested this time had a treatment, if I tested positive for either of them my miscarriage risk would drop to 15 -20 % (normal for most women) if I were to get pregnant and follow the treatment protocol.
However, I tested in the normal range for both of these. Which is good, I'm glad I don't have anything wrong with me, but it still leaves us looking for answers. It also leaves us with a miscarriage risk of 30-50% because of our history.
So, now we are at a crossroads with big decisions to make. And to be honest, for the first time in months my husband and I are on the same page.
We both agree, we're on the "wait and see" page. We don't know what to do. So for now, we wait for what God might show us. Praying for big answers in the next few months - the kind with giant flashing signs that say "THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO!"
This song says exactly what I'm thinking and feeling tonight. Thank you so much for all of your prayers on this journey, we really do appreciate all of them!
7.30.2013
Just one of those days
Some days my heart can't help but hurt.
I don't know why. Maybe it is the rain just like the day of his service, the unusually chilly weather for early May, wearing the same sweatshirt as the day we lost him, the abundance of pregnancy announcements and photos on facebook... Lots of little things can all add up, and I ache to hold my baby.
Strange to say, isn't it? If he were still here I would feel him moving around my tummy. I'd be tired, taking this opportunity to lay down and marvel at the way God creates a child inside his mother. So, it is very strange to say that I ache to hold my baby. I wouldn't just be holding him now, I'd be enveloping him - surrounding him with my whole person, nurturing him as he grows and becomes all that he needs to be to be healthy outside of me.
Instead, I take a few deep breaths, listen to some sweet songs, and weep. Then I pick up my feet, and move on.
Each day I move on...
I don't know why. Maybe it is the rain just like the day of his service, the unusually chilly weather for early May, wearing the same sweatshirt as the day we lost him, the abundance of pregnancy announcements and photos on facebook... Lots of little things can all add up, and I ache to hold my baby.
Strange to say, isn't it? If he were still here I would feel him moving around my tummy. I'd be tired, taking this opportunity to lay down and marvel at the way God creates a child inside his mother. So, it is very strange to say that I ache to hold my baby. I wouldn't just be holding him now, I'd be enveloping him - surrounding him with my whole person, nurturing him as he grows and becomes all that he needs to be to be healthy outside of me.
Instead, I take a few deep breaths, listen to some sweet songs, and weep. Then I pick up my feet, and move on.
Each day I move on...
6.24.2013
I wish I was in my second trimester.
I'm happily away visiting my parents house for the next few weeks. Us girls have left hubby alone to fend for himself as we vacation in a little slice of paradise...
I can't help but remember how I had envisioned this trip a few months ago. Expecting to be nearly 20 weeks pregnant by now, clearly showing and feeling all those kicks and rolls of our 3rd baby.
Instead, I open my facebook news feed all to often and see posts from pregnant friends that have passed me on my journey. The ones that stayed pregnant. I wouldn't wish for anything different for them, but a little piece of my heart aches a tiny bit every time and I sigh and think:
'I wish I was in my second trimester.'
I'm stuck in a strange world. The world at peace, and the world so sad. The world that forgets that Isaiah will not join our family and the world that is so thankful I was able to spend so much time with him and have a beautiful memorial service for him.
To think that I was supposed to be so pregnant this time of year, and now it is sometimes hard for me to remember I even was pregnant just a few months ago. It baffles me.
People ask me how I am, and truly, genuinely, I am good. Really good, God is so faithful, so constant, so true. He has never let me down or abandoned me. I feel his strength when I don't want to go on and his peace when I think the road ahead is too overwhelming. But in the midst of all of that, I just miss Isaiah.
That's all there is to it. I miss him. The little boy I never had a chance to meet. The one we didn't plan but were so excited to have. The one who could have been a playmate for his older cousins and whose big sisters would have dressed him up in fairy costumes and hair bows while he ran around with a sword in his hand and built lego houses.
I miss him, a lot. Every day, I miss him.
So if you ask me how I am, and you can see that I'm truly good, its because I am.
But I still miss my son.
I can't help but remember how I had envisioned this trip a few months ago. Expecting to be nearly 20 weeks pregnant by now, clearly showing and feeling all those kicks and rolls of our 3rd baby.
Instead, I open my facebook news feed all to often and see posts from pregnant friends that have passed me on my journey. The ones that stayed pregnant. I wouldn't wish for anything different for them, but a little piece of my heart aches a tiny bit every time and I sigh and think:
'I wish I was in my second trimester.'
I'm stuck in a strange world. The world at peace, and the world so sad. The world that forgets that Isaiah will not join our family and the world that is so thankful I was able to spend so much time with him and have a beautiful memorial service for him.
To think that I was supposed to be so pregnant this time of year, and now it is sometimes hard for me to remember I even was pregnant just a few months ago. It baffles me.
People ask me how I am, and truly, genuinely, I am good. Really good, God is so faithful, so constant, so true. He has never let me down or abandoned me. I feel his strength when I don't want to go on and his peace when I think the road ahead is too overwhelming. But in the midst of all of that, I just miss Isaiah.
That's all there is to it. I miss him. The little boy I never had a chance to meet. The one we didn't plan but were so excited to have. The one who could have been a playmate for his older cousins and whose big sisters would have dressed him up in fairy costumes and hair bows while he ran around with a sword in his hand and built lego houses.
I miss him, a lot. Every day, I miss him.
So if you ask me how I am, and you can see that I'm truly good, its because I am.
But I still miss my son.
5.18.2013
Life Lately
I should go to bed, seriously. It's 11:30 pm and Z has gotten into a frustrating habit of waking up at 3:15 am and just hanging out for awhile. I'll be regretting this later I'm sure.
But, I've spent my evening pouring over the memorial pictures, with the song He Weeps by Fireflight running through my head.
Appropriate really, although I haven't done much weeping the last few days, just you know, sighing.
My husband and I finally celebrated our birthday tonight. It was especially wonderful since I enjoyed a huge steak, medium rare, a couple of sweet teas, and way too many Texas Roadhouse rolls. It was delicious. (Thank you parents, we appreciated it!)
I feel like I should give you an update on how we're doing. We're doing good? Good is such a strange way to phrase it, but we're not doing bad? I don't know. I guess, we're moving through this.
Aaron and I were talking to night about how God has strengthened us through this, how he may not have given us the miracle of Isaiah living on Earth, but he is working a miracle through the pain of losing Isaiah. (We worded it more eloquently when we were talking about it earlier). Just that we have seen his hand on our entire pregnancy, from the moment of conception and the several weeks we were clueless to his pregnancy - through to even now. Even now.
When I posted the memorial piece yesterday I posted the song Sunshine by JJ Heller - well yesterday I received in the mail from a friend this:
But, I've spent my evening pouring over the memorial pictures, with the song He Weeps by Fireflight running through my head.
Appropriate really, although I haven't done much weeping the last few days, just you know, sighing.
My husband and I finally celebrated our birthday tonight. It was especially wonderful since I enjoyed a huge steak, medium rare, a couple of sweet teas, and way too many Texas Roadhouse rolls. It was delicious. (Thank you parents, we appreciated it!)
I feel like I should give you an update on how we're doing. We're doing good? Good is such a strange way to phrase it, but we're not doing bad? I don't know. I guess, we're moving through this.
Aaron and I were talking to night about how God has strengthened us through this, how he may not have given us the miracle of Isaiah living on Earth, but he is working a miracle through the pain of losing Isaiah. (We worded it more eloquently when we were talking about it earlier). Just that we have seen his hand on our entire pregnancy, from the moment of conception and the several weeks we were clueless to his pregnancy - through to even now. Even now.
When I posted the memorial piece yesterday I posted the song Sunshine by JJ Heller - well yesterday I received in the mail from a friend this:
The card read: Sending you some sunshine in the midst of your storm
She sent me a box full of everything yellow, it definitely brought me a lot of sunshine and made my day. Everything was yellow!
Sometimes are really good, sometimes I'm really sad. I'm having an especially difficult time with little boys. I miss not having mine. There was a tiny, newborn baby boy in the waiting area at Texas Roadhouse tonight and I just wanted to snatch him up and take him home. I tried to keep that thought to myself though as I'm sure his mother wouldn't appreciate knowing there was a crazy stalker baby stealer in the restaurant. I restrained myself, I did not steal that woman's super cute baby.
But I wanted to...
okay. okay. not really.
but kind of.
Anyway, here are a few pictures of the last few days - As much as there has been sorrow, I've enjoyed my little girls even more. A loss always punctuates a gain and my sweet girls are a big gain. Treasures I tell them, precious treasures.
This little girl adores her daddy!
How Zemirah manages to smile while being squished by her big sister is beyond me, but she loves it!
This is how I spent my Mother's Day afternoon, tickling my girls and really really laughing. It was a hard day, but I really did enjoy my babies.
Yes, that's a booger on Zemirah's chin; it had apparently dried there during her nap and she wouldn't let me pick it off.
So that is a bit of our lives the past few days. God has been very good to us, he has blessed us immensely and as we heal from the loss of Isaiah we will continue to know and feel his blessings even more.
5.16.2013
Isaiah's Song & Memorial Service
I am a big JJ Heller fan. I like to sing "When I'm With You" to my girls and "The Boat Song" to my husband. So it is only fitting that we have a song by JJ Heller for sweet little Isaiah too.
At the end of his memorial service we played "Sunshine" and while the music played my beautiful 5 year old daughter, completely enamored with her tiny baby brother and with a perfect perspective of the wonders of heaven, danced through the whole song.
It was perfect.
While this song plays you can scroll through a few of our memorial pictures. These pictures were taken by two amazing photographers from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. What a beautiful organization, thank you for capturing this day for us.
Isaiah Michael Kellett
May 2, 2013
7:50 am
This was engraved on Isaiah's white keepsake box that we have and also on the inside of the heart shaped box he was buried in.
This box was fitting for our butterfly baby, engraved on the outside was "expect miracles...they happen every day." It speaks well of the short and miraculous life Isaiah lived.
Isaiah's statue
My girls
You'll see in the next few pictures that Amariss was quite the comforter. She loved and adored her little brother very much.
My parents
A prouder big sister, I have never met.
Aaron's mom holding Zemirah; our parents did a wonderful job keeping her occupied and taking turns holding her.
We read:
Isaiah 49:14-23
Isaiah 65:17-24
Isaiah 66:7-13
Our final goodbyes
Amariss loves to finish her dances with a big full Mommy hug
*Isaiah was buried near our Bleeding Heart plant. We found it fitting as it is in full bloom in early May. We were also gifted with a Japanese Maple from Aaron's mom and a Blue Hydrangea from my parents. In addition I received a wind chime from a wonderful group of friends and our once empty shade garden is now very full and has come to possess much meaning.*
5.08.2013
The last 6 days....
I can't believe that tomorrow marks 1 week since we lost our sweet Isaiah. Time has moved slowly and at warp speed at the same time.
1 week ago I got the muffle fixed but it feels like months ago.
1 week ago I bought maternity clothes and a blue whale sweater in anticipation that Tic Tac would be a boy. It feels like just yesterday.
Today was similar to last Wednesday, marked with perfect blue skies and warm sunshine. Only today I could walk to pick Am up from school, and today my neighbor took my girls to the park with her kids so I could have some time to myself. Last week we all laughed and played together on a blanket under the big maple tree while our 5 year olds put on a play about kitties again. We talked about Rat's miscarriage (their cat) and I made a gesture and said "I feel ya sista" as a joke. Oh how true the next day would make that statement.
Thursday was, well, overwhelming. In every sense of the word. I haven't yet decided if I'll post the details of that awful morning, from the early morning cramps to the very end just a few hours later.
We were so blessed to spend 2 1/2 days with our sweet Isaiah, memorizing him, holding him, counting his fingers and toes - loving him just like we would any other baby. Our time with him was just too short.
A few have asked just how we knew Isaiah was a boy, it was quite obvious when he was born. Although it wouldn't have been visible by ultrasound, there is no doubt about it.
My parents made a quick trip up - I say quick because they left within 1 hr of my mom getting home from work, but the 11 hour trip was certainly not quick for them. But they came - and they mourned with us.
We had a beautiful service on Saturday attended by just us and our parents. It was exactly what we all needed and brought healing full circle. We called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, and were blessed by two wonderful volunteer photographers who came out and took pictures of our memorial service. They were truly a gift to us as we were able to experience Isaiah's service without thought as to whether or not we would have pictures to remember it by.
My parents had to head back home on Sunday, really - they spent almost more time traveling to get here than they spent here, but I can not thank them enough for making the trip.
These last few days with Aaron back at work have flown. I don't really know where they've gone. I know that there are going to be many emotional battles in the days, weeks, and months ahead.
I will begin teaching again this summer, and was hoping to be able to spend an afternoon a week at the pregnancy center. November will probably be the most difficult, with the elation of Z's birth still pulsing through my veins, my heart will ache on Isaiah's due date more than the others.
I miss him so much already, as I have him pictured as a little boy laughing, running, playing. I can see him jumping off of furniture with a cape and scaring me with snakes and spiders.
Life is full of crazy ups and downs, twists and turns. Heartache and joy mingled into one.
1 week ago I got the muffle fixed but it feels like months ago.
1 week ago I bought maternity clothes and a blue whale sweater in anticipation that Tic Tac would be a boy. It feels like just yesterday.
Today was similar to last Wednesday, marked with perfect blue skies and warm sunshine. Only today I could walk to pick Am up from school, and today my neighbor took my girls to the park with her kids so I could have some time to myself. Last week we all laughed and played together on a blanket under the big maple tree while our 5 year olds put on a play about kitties again. We talked about Rat's miscarriage (their cat) and I made a gesture and said "I feel ya sista" as a joke. Oh how true the next day would make that statement.
Thursday was, well, overwhelming. In every sense of the word. I haven't yet decided if I'll post the details of that awful morning, from the early morning cramps to the very end just a few hours later.
We were so blessed to spend 2 1/2 days with our sweet Isaiah, memorizing him, holding him, counting his fingers and toes - loving him just like we would any other baby. Our time with him was just too short.
A few have asked just how we knew Isaiah was a boy, it was quite obvious when he was born. Although it wouldn't have been visible by ultrasound, there is no doubt about it.
My parents made a quick trip up - I say quick because they left within 1 hr of my mom getting home from work, but the 11 hour trip was certainly not quick for them. But they came - and they mourned with us.
We had a beautiful service on Saturday attended by just us and our parents. It was exactly what we all needed and brought healing full circle. We called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, and were blessed by two wonderful volunteer photographers who came out and took pictures of our memorial service. They were truly a gift to us as we were able to experience Isaiah's service without thought as to whether or not we would have pictures to remember it by.
My parents had to head back home on Sunday, really - they spent almost more time traveling to get here than they spent here, but I can not thank them enough for making the trip.
These last few days with Aaron back at work have flown. I don't really know where they've gone. I know that there are going to be many emotional battles in the days, weeks, and months ahead.
I will begin teaching again this summer, and was hoping to be able to spend an afternoon a week at the pregnancy center. November will probably be the most difficult, with the elation of Z's birth still pulsing through my veins, my heart will ache on Isaiah's due date more than the others.
I miss him so much already, as I have him pictured as a little boy laughing, running, playing. I can see him jumping off of furniture with a cape and scaring me with snakes and spiders.
Life is full of crazy ups and downs, twists and turns. Heartache and joy mingled into one.
5.02.2013
Isaiah Michael
I'm sure in the next few days, weeks, and months - as my emotions unravel you will hear much more from me on all of this. Probably every thought, whim, or idea that could possibly seek to provide answers but of course, answers that will really never come this side of eternity.
So, with a heavy heart -
This morning, at 7:50am, on May 2, 2013, I miscarried our son, Isaiah Michael, at 11 weeks 1 day gestation. A beautiful little boy, perfectly formed in every way, will be spending the rest of his days with Jesus and several of his siblings. However, Mommy, Daddy, and big sisters have heavy hearts as we miss our little boy.
Thank you so much for your support, and your prayers over the past few weeks and even as we go through the next few days.
Much love,
Brie
So, with a heavy heart -
This morning, at 7:50am, on May 2, 2013, I miscarried our son, Isaiah Michael, at 11 weeks 1 day gestation. A beautiful little boy, perfectly formed in every way, will be spending the rest of his days with Jesus and several of his siblings. However, Mommy, Daddy, and big sisters have heavy hearts as we miss our little boy.
Thank you so much for your support, and your prayers over the past few weeks and even as we go through the next few days.
Much love,
Brie
12.07.2011
When Grief Isn't Pretty
I'm not a fan of grief, personally, I think its messy. There is no rhyme or reason to it, it rarely looks the same from person to person or situation to situation, and it rears its ugly head at inopportune or unfortuanate moments. You never know who is going to be the next victim of your grief.
In our years of dealing with miscarriage, which has been at the top of my list of hardest things to deal with, I have damaged friendships, developed bad habits and addictions, said things I later really regretted, and opened my own eyes to the ugliness of my own pain.
One thing I have learned over the years is that grief must be dealt with because if you ignore it, it will probably deal with itself. Maybe "dealt with" isn't the best phrase. Grief must be felt. No matter how you choose to feel it, you have to feel it.
With our first miscarriage we made a memory box, we put in it cards and pictures - letters we wrote to the baby, and the first onesie I bought it and a stuffed bear. We did the same for our next 3 miscarriages. We now have 4 boxes... unfortuanately the last 2 miscarriages I just haven't bought the box. At the time I just didn't want to deal with it - and now, it seems a little late. We also have 3 ornaments on our Christmas tree for our first 3 babies, however - our last 3 don't have ornaments. We just haven't yet found the perfect ones.
Everyone chooses a different way to grieve, everyone picks something that will help them remember, or help them cope.
One thing I do know, it that whether or not you grieve - you will never forget your babies. They are a part of you and never leave your heart. Whether you did alot, or nothing at all - our babies are special, and they're always with us.
In our years of dealing with miscarriage, which has been at the top of my list of hardest things to deal with, I have damaged friendships, developed bad habits and addictions, said things I later really regretted, and opened my own eyes to the ugliness of my own pain.
One thing I have learned over the years is that grief must be dealt with because if you ignore it, it will probably deal with itself. Maybe "dealt with" isn't the best phrase. Grief must be felt. No matter how you choose to feel it, you have to feel it.
With our first miscarriage we made a memory box, we put in it cards and pictures - letters we wrote to the baby, and the first onesie I bought it and a stuffed bear. We did the same for our next 3 miscarriages. We now have 4 boxes... unfortuanately the last 2 miscarriages I just haven't bought the box. At the time I just didn't want to deal with it - and now, it seems a little late. We also have 3 ornaments on our Christmas tree for our first 3 babies, however - our last 3 don't have ornaments. We just haven't yet found the perfect ones.
Everyone chooses a different way to grieve, everyone picks something that will help them remember, or help them cope.
One thing I do know, it that whether or not you grieve - you will never forget your babies. They are a part of you and never leave your heart. Whether you did alot, or nothing at all - our babies are special, and they're always with us.
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