10 things I wish every person knew about the death of a child

10 things I wish every person knew about the death of a child
This is a great article to help people understand and maybe some ideas of what they can do, even if is it just to be patient, understanding and loving.

I get some of these and have dealt with a lot of them.  Grief is a strange thing in that you never know when the next burst of sadness, anger or anything may hit. Be a friend to your hurting friend.  They need a lot of understanding and not a lot of expectations as to how they need to be.  What is huge is knowing that when we are ready, you will still be our friend.  This path tends to leave you with very few friends when you enter it.  That doesn't have to be a bad thing, but can be lonely.

By SAMANTHA HAYWARD

The soul destroying agony of your child dying is only truly known and understood by those who have endured it. Four years on, I still glance down at my daughters grave in disbelief. Visiting my child’s grave is surreal. It’s almost like I’ve vacated my body and I’m watching someone I don’t know standing there putting flowers down.

Is this really my life ?

Only a parent understands the powerful bond you have with your child; that absolute undying love you have and that monumental desire that roars like an open fire inside you to protect that child at all costs. It is openly said that a parent will lay down their life for their child, but it is not until you have your own that you truly understand these fierce emotions. Parenting is wearing your heart on the outside of your body. Whatever you imagine it might be like to have your child die, multiply that by about a trillion and you’re probably not even close.

On the surface it appears society is accepting of this unbearable sadness and people are supportive and open to talking about it. However, in my situation I’ve been surprised by people’s genuine kindness and empathy as much as I’ve been repeatedly shocked & disappointed by their lack of it. It’s necessary for bereaved parents to be able to talk and, most of all, be able to talk openly. I’ve found it’s the only thing which dispels the trauma.

Sure, friends and family have been supportive, but it’s proven to be the case with me that there is a mandate as for how long their unwavering support, patience, understanding, concern and empathy lasts. The truth is, the situation is so unbearably sad that it becomes incredibly emotionally draining on the other person.

The realisation that they can’t fix your sadness sets in, the frustration builds because not even they can see an end in sight, then gradually it starts to impede on the happiness in their life. They haven’t lost their child so why should they spend all their time sad about yours?

I will, for the sake of all the other parents out there with empty arms, write ten things I wish people knew about the loss of a child. Maybe one of my ten points might make a difference to a bereaved parent’s life.

1. Four years on I get up every day with the exact same sadness I had the day Ella died.The only difference is I’m more skilled at hiding it and I’m much more used to the agony of my broken heart. The shock has somewhat lessened, but I do still find myself thinking I can’t believe this happened. I thought that only happened to other people. You asked how I was in the beginning yet you stopped, why? Where did you get the information on what week or month was good to stop asking?

2. Please don’t tell me that all you want is for me to be happy again. Nobody wants that more than I do, but it’s something that can only be achieved with time. On top of that, I have to find a new happiness. The happiness I once felt, that carefree feeling, will never return in its entirety. It also helps to have the patience and understanding from loved ones.

3. Please don’t say ‘I want the old Sam back!’ Or, I can see the old Sam coming back! Sam’s not coming back. This is who I am now. If you only knew the horror I witnessed and endured you would know it’s not humanly possible for me to ever be the same person again. Losing a child changes who you are. I’ve been told my eyes look haunted.

It’s a strange thing for someone to tell a grieving mother, but it’s true – I am haunted. My views on the world have changed, things that were once important are not now and vice versa. I feel as though you’re telling me two things here. Firstly you don’t like the person I am and, secondly if the old Sam’s not coming back I’m out of here. By the way there is nobody that misses the “old Sam” more than me!!! I’m mourning two deaths here; my daughter’s and my former self.

4. If you chose to acknowledge my daughter’s birthday or the anniversary of her death on the first year, it’s terribly gut wrenching when you didn’t bother to acknowledge the second or third or fourth. Do you think any subsequent birthday or anniversary is not as sad for me? It also says to me in very big neon lights that you’ve moved on and forgotten about my daughter.

5. Please stop with the continual comments about how lucky I am to have my other children particularly my daughter. Do I say this to you? Then why say it to me? I’ve buried my daughter do you seriously think I feel lucky?

6. It’s not healthy to cry in front of the kids? You’re wrong. It is perfectly healthy that they see I’m sad their sister has died. When someone dies it’s normal to cry. What would not be normal would be for my children to grow up and think “I never even saw my Mum sad over Ella’s death.” That would paint me in a light that would tell them it’s healthy to hide your emotions when obviously it’s not.

7. I have four children I don’t have three.  If you want to ignore Ella as my third child because she’s dead go for it but don’t do it for me. Four not three!

8. There are still some days, yes four years on, that I still want to hide away from the world and take a break from pretending everything is oh so wonderful and I’m all better.

Please don’t just assume I’ve thrown in the towel, or worse, actually be so thoughtless as to wonder what’s wrong with me. I still know I’ve married the catch of the century and my children are gorgeously divine and I have a beautiful house, but I’m grieving.

It’s mentally exhausting, especially raising three young children and on top of that maintaining a strong and loving marriage. Unbeknownst to you, I’m dealing with not just my own grief, but my beautiful husbands and my two boys.

It would be nice if you congratulated me on the state of my family because keeping it together, stable and happy, has been hard work.

9. I did notice. To the friends and family that found the entire death and dealing with my sadness all too hard and held secret events behind our backs that were lied about, stopped inviting us to things we had always been included in and slowly ended our relationship thinking I didn’t notice.

I did notice. The only reason why I never said anything is because I’m not wasting my words on your shameful behaviour. I am thankful for something though – I didn’t waste any more time on people that were capable of such shallowness and cruelty. Please don’t fear. I would be the first one by your side if the same thing happened to you. That should give you some indication of how horrible it is.

10. Grieving for a child lasts until you see them again. It’s a lifetime. If you’re wondering how long your friend or family member might be grieving for, the answer is forever. Don’t rush them, don’t trivialise their sadness, don’t make them feel guilty for being sad and when they talk to you, open your ears and listen, really listen to what they’re telling you. It’s possible you’ll learn something. Don’t be so cruel as to give up on them remember it’s not about you it’s about them.

I’ve been left repeatedly heart broken as friends that I truly loved and never thought would walk away from me tossed me into the too hard basket or – more hurtfully – the crazy basket. Phone calls stopped, text messages stopped, comments on Facebook stopped and I get the same thing every time. “Sorry darling I’m just flat out”, “Let’s catch up soon” and “I miss you.” The list could keep going but I get it. I’m not the type of person either that is going to pursue a friendship I know the other person doesn’t want. Everyone has a conscience and thankfully I don’t have to live with theirs.

You would think there are a lot of articles that raise awareness of the awful process associated with grieving for a child, but even stories from other parents are a rarity. The sad reality is there just isn’t enough said or printed. You seldom hear through the media about grieving for a child and the impact their death has on all the various people involved.

It can destroy a marriage instantly, it can leave siblings hurt, confused and angry. Often siblings are too young to understand, they’re angry that their family is not the same and even angrier that they don’t recognise their parents. Losing their sibling is bad enough but so much more is lost for these siblings that is never recognised. I could count on one hand the amount of times I’ve been asked how my boys were.

You might hear about the gory details surrounding a child’s death in the media but that’s about all. There should be so much more written about this topic, and additionally it should be talked about more openly than it is. I’m disappointed not just for me but for all the other grieving parents in society that this topic is met with so much fear and silence.

The bottom line is people are uncomfortable with the situation and I really don’t know why. My feelings tell me it is such an horrific thing that most people don’t want to know about it. Maybe they fear through knowing so much they might become obsessed with their own children dying. Parents worry enough about their children already. Do they really need the added worry about knowing how your child died?

Without question, my daughter Ella dying suddenly has been the worst thing that has happened in my 37 years here on Earth. I doubt that anything in my future is going to top it. Actually, just between us, I beg and plead with God on a daily basis that nothing ever does top that experience, but the truth is I just don’t know.

I’m not a mind reader nor do I have a magic pair of glasses where I can see how the rest of my life will unfold. I just have to hope that nothing ever does, but I have a very real fear it will because it has actually already happened to me. I know without having to hold a psychology degree that having those fears is normal.

“I don’t think I would be able to survive something like it again.”

What I’ve endured, losing my little princess, has been so unimaginably horrific that I don’t think I would survive something like it again.

What I have had to give emotionally to get through it has dwindled away all my mental strength – just like twenty cents pieces in a kid’s piggy bank.

I’m broke – not broken – I’m broke emotionally. I know all the energy I’ve needed over the last four years has not just been spent on my grief for Ella.

It’s been on trying to get my friends and family to understand what it’s like to walk in my shoes. I’m angry about that. When I should have been grieving, I was defending myself.

I’m probably very close to being as angry about that as I am about her death. I wish I wasn’t angry. Lord knows I don’t need another emotion but I don’t know how to not be angry, especially with some of the things that people have said and done to me. I talk and talk yet I’m often never actually heard.

I’m not sure if it’s a lack of literature around or perhaps that people simply don’t want to read it because it’s so awful and they don’t want to know someone they love and care about it experiencing so much agony. I  personally know though, if I found out a family member or friend had been diagnosed with an illness or disease, or worse, their child, I would be on Google immediately finding out more about it and how I could help them the best. So why is it that this doesn’t seem to apply with the death of a child?

Most people just think they know. I find this extremely frustrating. The death of your child is the worst thing that can happen to a person, yet most feel educated enough to advise, to criticise, to lend their words of wisdom when they don’t know the first thing about it. Get over it? Why don’t we see if you could get over it first!

Most people wouldn’t know that when I meet someone new I instantly become uncomfortable and filled with dread. I know at any moment when I engage in conversation the question is going to arise about my family and how many children do I have? I would love not to have to tell them. Life would be a lot easier if I could take that path. However, I do have another child. Her name is Ella. She would now be four but she died when she was 19 days old. She isn’t lost – I know exactly where she is, she’s dead.

Ella is my third child and she deserves to be acknowledged just as much as my other children. I’ve lied before saying I have only three children, but the guilt that follows me around for days on end is just simply not worth it. I can actually hear Ella saying to me “don’t I matter anymore Mummy?” “Why were you too ashamed to talk about me?”

So personally for me, as much as I don’t want to tell someone I don’t personally know very well that my daughter is dead, the guilt of not acknowledging her is worse. I don’t have three children, I have four and my daughter is not my only daughter – I have another as well. It’s pot luck what their reaction is going to be. There’s no telling what they’re going to say. You just have to close your eyes, cover your broken heart and hope they don’t plunge that knife further in.

If I could have my questions answered on why people give so much advice on a topic that they know so little about, it would really help me. What has surprised me so much since Ella’s death is how little empathy there is in the world. Empathy to me is a no brainier. You just imagine you’re in the other persons shoes, simple yes? Apparently no. Just think how you would like to be treated and if you wouldn’t like it don’t do it. You never know what your life holds – one day it could be you wearing my shoes!

I hope this article about my personal thoughts and opinions helps at least one person understand to some degree what life is like for the bereaved parent ❤

I dedicate this article to my soul mate, Darren. I’m the luckiest girl in the world having you, my darling. I love you more and more everyday you’re simply perfect and after fifteen years my heart still skips a beat with I see you. My friend Natalie Donnelly & her daughter Eryn. To put it simply: she is an angel and if the world was full of Natalies, it would be a better place. Also my bestie Liv thank you for letting me be and never smothering me with pointless words. Love you both xx

How to Mourn with the Parents of Stillborn and Miscarried Children. By John Patton

This I a great article. The original post can be found here:  http://thegospelcoalition.org/mobile/article/tgc/how-to-mourn-with-the-parents-of-stillborn-and-miscarried-children

July 10, 2013. It was the day I was supposed to go to the hospital and find out the gender of my unborn child, a mid-point milestone of pregnancy in the 21st century. Every day, mothers and fathers walk into the doctor's office and wait with eager anticipation as the ultrasound technician helps them discover whether they will paint their nursery blue or pink. Will they plan for the creative destruction of a little boy or the emotional tempest of a teenage daughter? Will they clean peas and cheese smashed into the floor or entertain intense disquisitions about mermaids?

My wife and I already have three children and chose to forego this knowledge with each of them. We were happily surprised with a daughter and then two sons. Our fourth child, the fourth in only four-and-a-half years, threw our life into utter chaos. The baby was a surprise, actually a complete shock, and yet we had adjusted to the logistically nightmarish shape our life took on in March when we discovered this baby's existence. We had four months to talk about a different house, different car, and contemplate the possibility of three kids simultaneously in diapers. We came to love the chaos brought on by the mysterious and awful power of new life. Who were we to judge what God had chosen to do in his providence?

Stillborn 

But we did not go to the hospital on that Wednesday in July. We did not go to find out the gender of our little girl because we found out who she was when she passed from this world into the next at 17 weeks old. Our baby, our second daughter, was taken from us before we ever had the chance to know her. This far along in pregnancy, death in utero means that the mother must labor and deliver the stillborn child.

Stillborn child.

Was she stillborn, or was this just a miscarriage? Just a miscarriage? Medically speaking a child is considered stillborn in the United States once she reaches 20 weeks and beyond in the womb. Earlier death is considered a miscarriage. What do these words mean, though? Either way it means the extinction of human life. I do not know what to call it, but I know that I held my daughter in all her beauty for several hours in that hospital room; I beheld her lovely little toes and fingers and her glorious, if yet largely unformed face. I pleaded with God to welcome her into his kingdom with open arms and be a better father to her than I could ever be. I pleaded with my heavenly Father to help me deal with jealousy and envy at the reality that others would be spending time with my girl and not me. I begged him to keep me content on this earth, for the desire to be absent from this body and present with the Lord and my little Emma Llewellyn positively overwhelmed me. I did not think about suicide but rather a simple urgency just to be gone, to be taken from the pain of this world. Grief is strange that way.

I prayed that my wife would be cared for in the coming months, because I knew that her road ahead was different from mine in some ways. She actually delivered our lifeless child and has wrestled with the possibility she may have done something wrong. However rational her response, if you have experienced this kind of loss, such fears cannot simply be explained away. What if I had not indulged that one sip of wine? Did I inhale toxic fumes? Did I not love this baby in my heart and soul as much as my previous children? What about that potent medication I took four years ago on which you are not supposed to become pregnant? 

It is a tender mercy of God that we learned soon after Emma's death that she died for a specific reason. A fairly rare condition had developed in which the umbilical cord did not attached to the placenta the way that it should have, resulting in a tenuous connection between baby and placenta. That connection failed when Emma began moving around in the womb.

Whether you know the reason or not, your pain is real. Your family has died to what it would have been. Those in your family, church, or community may not understand your pain. They may say insensitive things, act aloof, and fail to understand why you cannot get over losing a person you never met. You can always have another one, right? No, we know it is not that simple. Someone made in the image of eternal God has left your earthly family forever.

Grace must abound in the wake of the death of a child in the womb precisely because others do not understand. And I do not mean grace from others to you, but rather your grace with others. God may call you to the primary task of ministering to others, even as they attempt to minister to you. Their lack of understanding may call for patience and gentleness you can barely muster. God gives this strength, even as he continues to console your heart with his Spirit.

Comforting Those Who Wait for the Resurrection

Death, that most hateful of things, awaits every one of us, yet its sting is unique when it takes a helpless babe.  While we believe Jesus conquered death at the cross, we wait for the resurrection to fully realize the death of death. Until then we must bear the burdens of and mourn with those around us.

The comfort and hope of the resurrection give us great resources for responding to those in your community who have suffered the pains of miscarriage. Here are six thought to keep in mind as you comfort and console.

1. Be content simply to "mourn with those who mourn" (Rom. 12:15).Know that your words of comfort will not be much consolation in the short run, even if you have experienced miscarriage yourself. As with most other kinds of loss, each person's experience is profoundly different.


2. Don't try to be the hero. Your may desire to utter just the right words that will bring healing and resolution to mom and dad's pain. But that desire may arise more from your own struggle to reconcile the reality of death with the hope of Christ than from the need of those suffering to hear your words.


3. Remember mom. Her pain will linger after most people have ceased asking about it. Don't be afraid to broach the subject and encourage her six, nine, or even twelve months after the fact.


4. Remember dad. A miscarriage is not a set of circumstances in which mom suffers the pain and dad gives support. It's tempting to think that mom bears all the pain, but a father feels helpless in his own way. He needs much love and encouragement.


5. Be patient.  My wife and I have struggled over and over again to choose worship and dependence rather than despair or indifference. Sometimes we have failed. Be patient with those who seem not to be "getting over" their loss. Pray for the truth of God's goodness to break through. Love, love, love on your friends who have lost.


6. Read them the Psalms. Just pick them up and start reading. They give lyrical shape to the confusion, anger, pain, relief, hope, and every other possible emotion the suffering feel. Reading the Psalms helps us to live emotionally with a doxological mindset. Psalm 34 has been a key text for me.

Miscarriage, like all other loss, presents an opportunity to seek refuge in bitterness, independence, and hobbies or to rest in the bottomless grace of a God who has known the most severe pain and sorrow. His compassion for a family's lost child is matched only by his goodness to us. 

A Song Can Rise From The Ashes Of A Broken Life

My life has felt like the Song "Worn" by Tenth Avenue North, for so very long.  I know that I will have days that I feel like this for the rest of my life, but I finally feel that I am seeing MY song rise from the ashes now.

I am definitely being stretched each day I choose to take a new step to find myself rooted more in Jesus.  I can tell you I am uncomfortable, but I am finding Joy.  God is calling me out of my safety net and asking me to step out and show the love of Jesus to those around me.  I can thank my precious Madilyne for helping me see the beauty in a new day, to feel the love of a precious soul.  I want the people that I interact with from day to day know that they are loved.  I want them to know I am here to do life with them.  I am here to get down and dirty.  I am here to be happy and sad with them.  I AM HERE.  What a precious gift this is.  It is something that can so easily be overlooked and taken advantage of until it isn't there and you feel alone.

Psalm 59:17

You are my strength, I sing praise to you; you, God, are my fortress, my God on whom I can rely.

I feel so blessed that people have allowed me to step into their lives and serve them.  I feel a little self serving, because while I am serving them, they are also serving me.  The joy of being able to take a day that could be consumed with thoughts that will not uplift or help me and turn that into something that can be a beautiful reflection of Jesus working through me.  I love to think that I honor my daughter best by loving people.

In my last few weeks, I have had the joy of caring for a mommy and her kids while her husband is out of town and she is worn from being pregnant, the pleasure of trying to encourage a friend that feels like they are at their wits end in their relationship and just needed some refreshment, the pleasure of caring for a precious little baby that is new to this world and having a hard time adjusting, the happiness of watching my son play with 2 dogs and seeing him have the joy of a dog in his life again, the bliss of watching a daddy bathe his newly placed foster, soon to be official, daughter, the fun of planning some family events for our church, the creative fun of decorating for an upcoming event at church, the interesting task of creating craft projects for various ages, the fun of making beautiful butterflies made from foot prints with my son and my friend and her daughter, and also the opportunity to prepare a home for a baby once again (not ours - but pray with us).

Have these moments been easy, NOT AT ALL.  Some of these people I don't know at all, or don't know well.  If you know me at all, you know this is not an area that I like to be.  But what is great, when I am weak, He is strong (2 Cor 12:10 -I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.)  Since He called me to do these things, He has provided me the strength physically and emotionally to handle it.  I can't say that tears didn't roll later or that I didn't have to at:tack the desire to envy, or sit and sulk.  Again, my God is big.  He allowed the sadness to be there without going into areas of sin.

I am so excited to see how God will continue to work.  I hope that others will join me in honoring Jesus (and my daughter) by remembering that if we are comfortable, we might need to shake things up a bit.  Reach out and love someone.  Everyone has moments where they feel worn.  Everyone has moments where they feel like life would be easier if Jesus would come back NOW, but we can rise from those moments of being WORN and find the BEAUTY.

Thank you, Lord for a great and hard week.  I feel refreshed and exhausted, but oh so loved, hopeful and filled with Joy.

"Worn"

I’m Tired I’m worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes
To keep on breathing
I’ve made mistakes
I’ve let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world

And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up
But I'm too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

My prayers are wearing thin
Yeah, I’m worn
Even before the day begins
Yeah, I’m worn
I’ve lost my will to fight
I’m worn
So, heaven come and flood my eyes

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause all that’s dead inside will be reborn

Though I’m worn
Yeah I’m worn

Abraham's letter to his daughter

This is so incredibly beautiful and so similar to our thoughts even though the circumstance is hard.

Found at: http://mollypiper.xanga.com/622098122/abrahams-letter/

Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Abraham's letter

This is the letter that Abraham wrote to our daughter. This was in the funeral program.


For My Daughter, Felicity Margaret Piper
9/24/7

Felicity, your mama and I’ve been praying since you were just a speck that you’d be saved—that you’d love Jesus. “At an early age,” we’d sometimes pray, or sometimes we would even say, “Very soon.”

We didn’t know what we were asking for.

Last night, as we tried to fall asleep, for the first time since we found out you exist, we didn’t ask that God would save you. We thanked him that he had.

The Lord has blessed you and kept you, Felicity. The Lord has made his face to shine upon you and been gracious to you. The Lord has lifted up his countenance upon you and he has given you peace.

If you’d been given to me longer, I’d have put my hand on you and prayed that blessing for you every night. But Jesus said “Yes” before I got the chance to ask.

Yes, I’ll bless her. Yes, I’ll keep her.
Yes, I’ll shine my face upon her and be gracious to her.
Yes, I’ll lift up my countenance upon her, and, yes, I will give her my peace.
Yes, I’ll do all this for you. What’s more, I’ll do it for you now.

I can hardly breathe, Felicity. We didn’t mean our prayers to be answered quite like this. But here we are.

And there you are. Pleasures forevermore. Your name could not be truer now.

We never need to pray for you again—only about you: Dear Jesus, thank you for Felicity.

Molly Piper

I just heard about Molly Piper today and went searching to know more. Here is an article I stumbled upon about her loss of Felicity Margaret Piper 9.22.07.

I found this article here: http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/2008/07/what-id-like--4.html

What I'd Like For You To Know: The Mother Of a Stillborn Child

This is the third part of the weekly "What I'd Like For You To Know" series (background on the series can be found here). Today's contributor is Molly Piper--you can read her delightful blog here. Molly has written tenderly and clearly about her loss (for example, this post), and I've learned much from her these last few months. I asked her to tell you her story, and to help us all understand better how to reach out to a friend who is enduring grief.

A year ago I was seven months pregnant with our second child. We found out at our 18-week ultrasound, much to my delight, that this one was a girl. As the last months of pregnancy ambled on, we got more and more excited. We had done the boy thing already; we were ready for a daughter.

Everything was normal as the end of pregnancy drew near. There were no signs of a problem when I visited the doctor that final week. However, at 39 weeks and 4 days, I couldn't shake the feeling, “I haven't been feeling this baby move as much.”

We went to the hospital, not really alarmed, but concerned. When they couldn't find her heartbeat, mine beat fast enough and furiously enough for both of us, as though it were trying to live for her. Ultrasounds confirmed that our child had died.

We delivered her that day—September 22, 2007—Felicity Margaret Piper. She weighed 9 pounds, 5 ounces and was perfectly formed, though her umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck.

I had no category for “stillbirth” before this. Who gets 39 weeks into a smooth pregnancy and doesn't think they're definitely going to bring home their baby?

The road we've walked the past 10 months has been horribly difficult, the hardest thing we've ever walked through in our lives.

Here are some things I'd like people to know about me during this time. Maybe it will be helpful for you as you love other women you know who are living through the loss of a child.

I'm Exhausted.

Grieving is horribly tiring. It taxes the body, mind, and soul in unimaginable ways. And I'm not talking about the initial recovery of delivery. (Of course that's exhausting.) I'm talking about months and months of exhaustion.

There were times when sleep evaded me at night, because of stress, shock, grief, etc. So waking up in the mornings was very difficult. And then to have the motivation to get through the daily tasks of life... yeah, that didn't happen.

I'm a Scatterbrain.

Most of the people who I know who have walked through tragedy talk about the effect grieving has on their ability to organize, sequence tasks, and just plain remember simple things they never used to have to think about.

At this point, after 10 months, I feel like I'm slowly climbing out of this pit. Now I can actually plan a meal, or invite friends over for dinner, or keep the appointments and commitments I make (although when it comes down to it, I tend to wish I hadn't made them in the first place.)

This has been hard for me, since I tend to be the organized one in our little family. Well, not so much over the last year. There were many nights early on when I would stare into a full refrigerator for awhile and then decide that there was no food in the house—we'd have to get a pizza.

I Want to Talk About Her.

I'm almost always willing to talk about Felicity. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one. Often I deal with internal questions like, “If I bring up Felicity right now, is that going to make this whole conversation awkward?”

Most people won't bring up a dead child. In his book Stillborn, John DeFrain calls this the “conspiracy of silence.” Sometimes people are uncomfortable doing so; sometimes they can't think of what to say; sometimes they don't want to make the grieving parent cry, etc. So they just don't say anything.

This has been painful for me since we lost Felicity—when people just don't talk about her, especially in situations where it would be pretty natural to. The friends who have initiated toward me on the 22nd of the month, or brought over a random meal or flowers, or the ones who have asked to see her pictures have been so comforting to me.

I Can't Grieve on Command.

I've had moments since losing Felicity where I haven't wanted to grieve. In those moments I just want to be a wife to Abraham, or a mother to Orison, or a friend to my friends.

In those moments if someone approaches me and asks how I'm doing, I'm going to say something like, “Fine,” or maybe even “Good!” I don't want to open up and spill my guts just then.

When people ask the question, “How are you doing?” and I suspect they're asking into my grief, it can put me in a strange position. It can actually put pressure on me to grieve...right now! This is not the person's intent in asking, but it is sometimes the unintended result.

Then again I don't want people to never inquire about how I'm doing after losing my daughter. Sorry this isn't simple.

Please Ask Specific Questions.

Knowing that friends are thinking of my particular situation and storing up real questions to ask when they see me—questions other than “How are you doing?”—has been incredibly helpful.

I have some wonderful friends who keep our milestones in mind and ask questions relating to those. For example, “Wow, it's been nine months—does it feel different than other 22nd's, knowing that now she's been out as long as she was in?”

Those conversations go places. We really get somewhere emotionally. I feel cared for and understood; they feel let in on this part of my life. It's a beautiful symbiosis.

Please Avoid the Flippant Comfort of Hallmark Answers.

It's a wonderful thing to tell someone that you are praying for them or to share a verse from the Bible, but sometimes those words can feel very hollow if you haven't entered the grieving person's particular pain. Empathy is the key.

Though I believe with all my heart in the sovereignty of a loving God, having someone come up to me in my sorrow and simply say, “God is sovereign,” or “God is good,” and then walk away is just not comforting. Comfort that is too packaged and composed feels like reading a Hallmark card.

Remember That There's No Timetable.

Anyone who took a psychology class in college learned about the “stages of grief.” I tend to believe in the stages themselves, but I don't believe there is anything linear about going through them. I find that one day I'm angry, the next I'm accepting, the next I'm depressed, and so on.

My doctor said to me, “This is one of the hardest things that anyone ever deals with in their life, Molly.” That was so validating for me, and let me off the hook when I wasn't feeling “better” at month #3 or #6 or now. I've become convinced that this is a very long road, not one that can be walked in days or months, but years.

Please Persevere.

Loving and losing Felicity has forever changed me. I trust it is for the good, because I believe in Romans 8:28, but it rarely feels good.

I feel like a walking contradiction most of the time, confused, unknown even to myself. Friendships and situations that once felt normal feel different, because I am different.

And if I don't get me, how will my friends? It must be frustratingly difficult to understand me or my grief from the outside. Nevertheless, my friends continue to uphold me, and I'm sure you do the same for your grieving friends, too.

Thank you. It's hard, but I can tell you from this side of sadness that it's worth it.

You can read more of Molly's posts at her blog, The Pipers. Be sure to read her entire series titled "How To Help a Grieving Friend."

A Family Thanksgiving

We had a very nice day with my family for Thanksgiving.  We had way more food than was necessary, as is typical, but had a few new things that we did this year that was lots of fun.

Casey asked grandma if people could go around and say what they were thankful for.  I had wanted to do that as well and had made up something so we could write them out and create a gratitude journal to look back on as a family, but I of course forgot them...I am thankful that Casey thought to ask.  It was so cute to hear what each person was thankful for.  I am going to try to remember them for you:

1. Casey - (drawing a blank...need help family that reads this)
2. Simon - (drawing a blank...need help family that reads this)
3. Jason - That he didn't get hurt in the turkey bowl
4. Riley - (drawing a blank...need help family that reads this)
5. Amy - watching the leaves dance in the street and watching the Trees dance this morning from my window.
6. Logan - For papa's wisdom that he will share with him when he asks, Torrey is funny, Turner makes him smile, Nette, as the pastor said is full of faith, Grandma is sweet and makes good food (so does Nette and mommy), Casey makes me laugh, Simon's dark eyes get him out of trouble, daddy is fun and likes to play with us, Riley makes me smile, Mommy is nice and sweet. (we all started crying on his)
7. Papa - For family
8. Torrey - for his family and not getting hurt in the turkey bowl
9. Turner - for helicopters
10. Me - For Jesus and how because of Him we can have hope and see our our babies again.
11. Vickie - For salvation and for family that gets along.

After we were done going around the table and crying together for the kind words and for those we are missing this thanksgiving for multiple reason, we moved to the next thing.

Torrey and I had decided that we want to make sure to "include" Madilyne and Jordan at holidays and had talked about doing candles on the table (which I still like, but we didn't do this time), but we settled on buying balloons to release as a family, so this time I bought a balloon for all there were to be present (on deflated before the release however).  Turner loves to let them go, so figured that the kids would all like it as well.  I think the adults could have enjoyed it, but I think we try to be too adult and have a brave face...so we enjoyed it because of the kids...little steps.

Logan, when he heard we were going to release balloons to Madilyne and Jordan decided he was going to send up a note to them.  I love his heart so very much.  This little boy loves Jesus and will do his best to reach the world if we allow him the chance.

Logan was a little disappointed when he released his balloon as it got caught in the tree.  He and papa both had theirs get stuck.  Logan wanted to make sure the girls got their note.  Amy told him that it was okay, because maybe the people that got the balloon in their tree needed to hear the name of Jesus.  Papa went out later and was able to come back and report that the balloon had gotten free.  Logan was so happy to hear that.

What a great day it was talking, playing games, crying and just being together.  I know it was bittersweet for me.  I would have loved to have been holding my precious little girl in my arms and nurturing her and watching her laugh and smile, but I know that she was doing that in heaven...that is the place that all those things are PERFECTLY done.  

Madilyne & Jordan, your family loves and misses you so.  

Until we see you again,

We love you from Earth to Heaven, FOREVER.

Momma

Words sure can hurt

Have you ever noticed how much words can really tear at your heart?

We have experienced some really painful words during our grief.  I really don't think that people intend to hurt us so, but they hurt just the same.  I have been so thankful that on the days that people have said some really hard things, I have felt strong and okay.  That doesn't mean that my head doesn't replay the words later and cause me some heartache, but overall, I am thankful that God has been able to renew my mind moment by moment as we grieve with hope.

I have found that so many people just want something to blame and be angry with, and where I understand that, the hardest part about people sharing is that for me, it feels like it all comes back to me.  No matter what is said about how she died or what the causes could be, it was me carrying her, it was my body that she died in.

I just want to encourage people to try your best to walk in this situation and know that I too would love to blame myself and find something to be angry at, but there is no healing in that place.  If you are needing to walk out the why and be angry, please try to think of the parents walking this out and feeling it so much more than you, and try to be understanding that what you might want to blame, will NOT help the parents in the situation.  Just really think about what you might want to say to them and pray to ask God make the words sweet to their soul, something they will forget if it will cause them pain, or that they are in a strong enough place that the words will not cut deep.  God is able to do immeasurably more than we think and we have seen it in our 7 weeks of grief and dare I say, peace and joy.

I wanted to put together a list of some things that have been helpful, hurtful and things to encourage you to consider if you ever find yourself helping a friend through this.  No two people are alike, so everyone will walk this out different, but it might help to hear from one who has been there.

Things that have helped us have been:

1. Just saying "I'm sorry for your loss"
2. Give us a hug
3. Let us cry
4. Acknowledge our precious child - it might evoke tears, but just be okay with us crying
5. Sharing how you have been impacted
6. A Memorial to our daughter(s)
7. Sharing your story if you have walked through something similar
8. Books with HOPE
9. remembering that it is more than the mom that is hurting and needing encouragement, hope and support
10. Trinkets to remember our little one (for mom, dad and siblings)
11. Still giving the gift you had intended for our little girl, we WILL cry, but it touches us to know the thoughts you had for her and us.
12. Acknowledging that she was ALIVE and real
13. People that just do what God has laid on their heart without needing our permission to do it
14. Having food brought to us
15. Understanding that we do not always want company
16. Invitations extended to us to come to a home for dinner and company
17. Invitations extended for an outing
18. Being told that we are prayed for
19. Having journals given to us
20. Being given photo albums
21. Praying with us
22. (there is more I am sure)

Things that do not help:

1. Expecting us to be over it already
2. Telling us we can try again
3. Telling us we could have done something different to change the outcome
4. Saying it was due to my medical situations
5. Saying it was her size/weight that caused her demise
6. Expecting us to always answer the phone or want company
7. Expecting us to call when we need "help"

Things to think about if you ever have to face this with a friend:

1. Call her on the phone and listen to her story over and over again
2. Visit her in the home
3. Offer to accompany her to a support group for pregnancy and infant loss
4. Let her grieve in her way unless it is hurtful to others or herself
5. Don’t be afraid to say her child’s name fearing that she may cry
6. Let her and her family withdraw from baby showers, birthday parties and other festive events given by others for a length of time
7. Purchase a Bible or other inspirational books to comfort her
8. Purchase angel mementos or other gifts reminiscent of her baby
9. Purchase scented candles, perfume or other fragrances reminiscent of the season her baby passed
10. Purchase a soothing music cd or songs played at the babies service or songs of hope
11. Don’t give advice because this can be interpreted in a negative way
12. Take her for a walk in the park to breath in nature and photograph the beautiful sky while remembering her sweet child
13. Send a “Thinking of You” card on the baby’s birthday
14. Offer to babysit her other children so she can may time alone to grieve
15. Bring meals for the family
16. Light a candle on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day
17. Create a handmade pregnancy and infant loss ribbon for her refrigerator
18. Help her create memorial scrapbook pages for her angel baby
19. Help her create a memory garden at her home or church
20. Write a special poem
21. Help her with the funeral or memorial service arrangements
22. Help her create a shadow box for mementos
23. Purchase a journal for special words to her baby
24. Create care packages for the charities honoring her infant
25. Have a drawing done of their child in the arms of Jesus
26. Have a special candle made, or vase engraved with information about their child that they can use for days to remember
27. Make a birth certificate to recognize their baby was alive

Please know that EVERYONE wants a life that has hope in it, so the overall thing that will help people is being told of the HOPE IN CHRIST.  Never forget to share Christ.

Hebrews 4:16

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of  need.

Psalm 34:13
Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit.

Proverbs 12:18
There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.

Proverbs 15:4
A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit.

Proverbs 21:23
Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble.

Madilyne's Album

Click here to view this photo book larger

The new way to make a photo album: photo books by Shutterfly.

To UNDERSTAND the WHY

I have found myself trying to understand WHY all the things in the last year have happened to us.  I am not sure that I will ever really get the big WHY picture, but I also don't know that I need to.

A friend of mine told me the other day, don't put a question mark where God puts a period.  That is such a good thing to remember.  We as Christians need to trust in God's sovereign plan.  That doesn't mean that we have to understand it, but just trust that He has a plan and that plan is perfect. 

I can't say that my mind will stop trying to ask WHY, because it won't.  It does it a lot of the time without me even realizing that I have gone there.  What is important is not so much where I start, but where I end.  My hope is that I will always end on God's faithfulness and trust Him in His plan.  I desire to continue to look to Him more and more and hope that I reflect more of Him back to other people.

Dear Jesus,  Please help us keep our hearts and minds focused on what is TRUE and not what we try to manufacture.  Help us as we deal through the loss of Lena and how are hearts feel broken and our arms feel empty.  Help us as well as we deal with the loss of Jordan, Bently and George as well.  So many precious little people out of our arms have been so devastating.  Help us continue to hope in you and make the desires of our heart match the desires of yours.  AMEN

Philippians 4:7
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Psalm 31:14
But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, “You are my God.”

Psalm 40:3
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.

Psalm 56:4
In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?

Psalm 62:8
Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us. Selah

Isaiah 12:2
“Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the LORD GOD is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation.”

Isaiah 26:4
Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock.

How day to day moments can affect you

Today we had the wonderful privilege of celebrating the first birthday of a very special little boy.  I hadn't really anticipated how that would affect me in any way until I stood there watching him try to figure out how he was going to eat his cake.  At that moment, the tears threatened to come as I thought of how I will never experience that very moment for Madilyne.  My heart was grieved and my head was wandering.  God was faithful to me, once again.  He allowed me to find joy in the moment instead of letting the tears and depression come.  This was a moment to celebrate LIFE.  This special little boy has life here on earth and I have been blessed to be part of his life.  I do not need to cling to things that can never be, but rather appreciate what is and how God wants to work in me through each moment. 

And so, I started thinking of how we can still find a way to celebrate our lovely daughter on the day of her birth and what we could do to rejoice in the gift that God gave us in her.  I still have not thought of what we can do, but have determined that I don't want to miss the opportunity to remember ALL the family that God gave us.  How can we continue to celebrate HIS faithfulness to us? 

A celebration is defined as:

The action of marking one's pleasure at an important event or occasion by engaging in enjoyable, typically social activity.

A celebratory event or series of events.

All of our children that have come and gone from our home are worth celebrating.  God was good and caring for us in all of them, even though the outcome is not what we had expected.  We can still celebrate God. 

If you have suggestions on ways to celebrate, whether as a family or as a group of believers, I would love to hear ideas.  I know that I do want to release balloons in recognition of Jordan, Bently, Georgie and Madilyne.  Balloons seem to be our thing.  Torrey and I did it the day before we got engaged at the place of our first meeting, so balloons are just a part of us.  Balloons just make people happy.

Psalm 34:8
Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!
Psalm 66:20
Blessed be God, because he has not rejected my prayer or removed his steadfast love from me!
Psalm 84:4-5
Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise! Selah
Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.
Psalm 84:12
O LORD of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you!
Psalm 113:2
Blessed be the name of the LORD from this time forth and forevermore!
Psalm 119:2
Blessed are those who keep his testimonies, who seek him with their whole heart,
Proverbs 16:20
Whoever gives thought to the word will discover good, and blessed is he who trusts in the LORD.
Proverbs 28:14
Blessed is the one who fears the LORD always, but whoever hardens his heart will fall into calamity.

She was ALIVE

One of the hardest things that I had to face with Lena's death was at the hospital when I asked for a birth certificate for my daughter.  The nurse left and came back and told me that since she died in Utero and was born still, she will not get a birth certificate only a death.  My head was screaming...SHE WAS ALIVE...DON'T MAKE THIS HARDER.  She was born, she just didn't have life in her at that point, but she had it just moments before. 

As a mom, you never expect to have a pregnancy end in death even though you know it could happen.  For healing alone, moms (parents) need to know that their child can be recognized for the short life they did have weather is was outside or inside the womb.  Hospitals would do a huge service to parents if they would create something.  I don't think anyone is looking for something official that is filled with the state, just the treatment that their child existed and the parents need them to be real to others. 

My Heart was so grieved.  Because she didn't live outside the womb, the state will not recognize her life only her death....you cannot die if you were not alive.  This might seem like something small, but for mothers and fathers and families that have lost a precious child, no matter when during the pregnancy, it hurts that their life cannot be recognized.  She WAS alive, she had LIFE, she had a purpose....help us recognize our special blessings with something that seems so simple yet is so huge.

I have been able to find a site that will make a lovely commemorative certificate for Madilyne (and even for Jordan Rad).  I need to have that to put into her memory book.  I have memories with her when she was alive and I need to recognize that the time was real and significant.

I have seen that there are bills in several states about this very issue and so many others surrounding miscarriage, stillbirth and infant death.  Until you are in the throws of such things, you don't always know all the "issues" that surround us.

Just a word to those walking through this yourself or with a friend...You need your child to be recognized, talked about, stories shared about the impact they made in your life or others.  Ignoring that they existed is cruel and unusual punishment.  We cannot promise that tears will not come, but we would rather you talk to us about our babies and we cry, then we cry because you will not acknowledge their existence. 

SHE WAS ALIVE....GOD HAS A PURPOSE....SHARE WITH US HOW GOD HAS USED HER IN YOUR LIFE.

Madilyne Eleahnah Margaret Myers (08.31.2012) and Jordan Rae Shalom Myers (07.20.2011) are very real and are very loved.

When I am weak...

In talking with a friend today, I was talking to her about all the losses that we have had in the last year, and I mentioned that it kind of sounds like a country song.  We have lost 4 children, 2 dogs and a truck.  I know that the dogs and the truck is what makes it feel very country, but my son viewed the truck as a huge loss and so we had to deal through that as well.

I know that for the last year we have walked out a lot of things that are considered loss and I know that in each loss there is something that God wants to use to bring glory to Himself.  Trying to figure out how he wants to use me in the middle of that is what has been "difficult" to figure out.  I want to be available and willing for how he wants each circumstance to reflect glory back to Him.  I know in several of the cases, that did not happen at the beginning.  I sure do hope that as I continue to figure this out with a Godly perspective, that he will continue to meet me there and use me.  I want to be a vessel that is willing to be completely broken so that he can put me back together in the way that He needs me to be and then use me to show that in my weakness He is the one that shines through very strong.

I know that at Lena's memorial, God was able to do that just by me getting up in front of people.  Where I did not do it perfectly by looking around at the people present, I know that just me being in front of people and speaking was completely and totally God.  I hope that He continues to use our loss in ways that show His strength very present in our lives, and uses each opportunity to continue to heal us and perfect us.

II Corinthians 12: 9-10
 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. ¹⁰ For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Lullaby

Daddy please don`t look so sad,
Mommy please don`t cry.
I am in the arms of Jesus
and He sings me lullabies.
Please do not try to question God,
don`t think He is unkind.
Don`t think He sent me to you and that
He changed His mind.
You see, I am special
and I`m needed up above.
I`m the special child you gave Him,
the product of your love.
I`ll always be there with you.
So watch the sky at night.
Find the brightest star that`s gleaming.
That`s my halo`s brilliant light.
So Daddy please don`t look so sad.
Mommy please don`t cry.
I am in the arms of Jesus.
And He sings me lullabies.

Nine precious months with you

By Lynette D. L. Myers
September 5, 2012

The day I realized that I was pregnant, I began to plan and dream of you.  I was scared to tell people because I had just lost your sister Jordan and was trying to protect myself from the pain of people knowing and the tears that could come if I lost you too.  I wanted to shout from the roof tops that God’s promise to me that I would have another little baby was coming true.

God had shown me such a pretty picture in the clouds on the day that we had lost Jordan.  It was a picture of God giving us you.  I was positive that meant we had nothing to fear, God had it in control.  That didn’t mean that I didn’t take on fear more than I should.  It is such an easy thing to take back and think you have control over.

My pregnancy with you was never easy.  There was not a day that I did not suffer with some kind of pain.  This was completely new to me as Turner was the easiest pregnancy ever.   I had to continue to remind myself that even though there was great pain, the miracle that was growing inside of me was a blessing from the Lord.  I had to actively choose to see it as such, as the pain was often more than I wanted to bear.

I loved feeling your movements.  You never held still and I LOVED it.  You did like to put yourself in positions that made the movements hard to handle at times, but still, I would take the time to stop place my hand at the place I felt movement because I loved to feel you on the inside and out.

Turner and I would read to you a lot.  Turner liked to talk directly into my belly button as we had made up stories about how you could hear him best if he did that.  Turner loved knowing he was going to be a big brother and had ordered up a little sister that would have orange hair with a little bit of blue and blue eyes.  Turner loved to dream of things for you and what he would do when you came home.  He was excited to play with you and hold you.  He tried to tell you of all his favorite things and was certain you would love him too.  He helped pick out clothes and toys and anything for you.  You have a great brother in him.  We had been teaching him how he was to protect you because he was a boy.  He was going to be in charge of showing you the right things to do because he was the big brother.

Our nine months together had lots of times of rest.  I am not great at slowing down and maybe you knew that already and that is why the pain had to be there.  I was able to really just be a part of all your movements and help Turner share in those quiet and precious times together.  I missed out on lots of outings due to the pain, but looking back now, Turner was not hurt by my missing and daddy got to really develop an even better relationship with him, and I was able to enjoy that time with you.  I am so glad knowing now that I had that.  We had some great times to talk together.  You knew my voice and responded.

You didn’t like me to eat much but fruit and vegetables, so mommy stayed pretty healthy for most of the time.  It wasn’t until the very end that your doctor started to say you were measuring large.  I knew that anyway, you were in my belly and I FELT the weight. 

I so hoped to be able to deliver you naturally, but am thankful now that God put it on my heart to set up a c-section.  I could not have imagined having to go natural knowing what I know now.

As the 9 months was coming to an end, I was so excited to meet you.  I was so excited you were a girl.  I had to clean your closet out twice to do some thinning and you hadn’t even arrived yet.  You were loved by so many and we were thankful for all the clothing you were blessed with by people passing on their love-me-down items.

The day that we were to go to the hospital, I woke up early because the last week you just were not moving as much and always caused me concern.  I got out my Doppler so I could listen to your heart.  You never liked people to listen and would make it so hard to find, but I did find it and it was slower than typical.  Daddy decided we should go in a little early.

On our way to the hospital, Auntie Keli called and prayed with us and while she prayed you kicked me hard in the ribs.  I loved the reassurance and felt that all was fine.  We got there and they set us up and started to hook me up to get your vitals.  The nurse was working hard to find your heartbeat.  We were not worried because you never cooperated once in 9 months in this area.  The nurse told us that he heard you moving, so again no reason for concern.  When he told us he was going to get the doctor because he wasn’t good at using the machine, my heart raced a bit, but figured he said he heard you, no worries.  Daddy had to get something to eat so his blood sugar wouldn’t plummet and while he was gone is when I received the most horrific news a mother could ever expect to hear.  I just started screaming and wailing wanting you back, not believing that for 9 months you were fine and that just minutes ago you kicked me and now they are saying that just 2 hours before I am to hold you, you have no heartbeat.  What in the world?  How could this be true?  This is just a nightmare like so many others I had.

I told them to leave and immediately picked up the phone to call someone…I just started dialing numbers and asking whomever was on the other end to pray for a miracle…either to start your heart or help my heart be ready.  After I could not think of another number to call, I started beating on my stomach hoping that this could suffice for CPR for you, my little one, and that your heart would start.  Alas, it did not and we had to deliver one of the most beautiful and fat little precious angels you could ever imagine laying eyes on.  As we stared at you, we just waited for you to take your first breathe because it just looked like you wanted to…you didn’t look gone…your color was great….the doctors said they could find NO reason you were gone…..This was NOT the miracle that God wanted to perform that day.

We had time of weeping, prayer, laughter, numbness, celebration, and the emotions just kept going.  Our little doll baby was gone and our hopes for you right with it.

We did however experience several miracles that day.  My heart did find peace and my marriage found hope.  You, our little Lena, provided us many gifts in those few hours after your passing.  It is always so great to be able to know that God gives good gifts and when something like this happens, there is still something in it that is a good gift.  What makes it even better is when the evidence of what that gift is comes right on the tail of the tragedy.  We did not have to wait long to start walking out and seeing the goodness that God had in store for us.  While we are heartbroken that it took you, our daughter, not being here and our hopes for you laid to rest, we are thrilled to know that your death was not in vain. 

We are able to rejoice that you will never experience the pain here and you went straight to perfection where now you are even more beautiful and completely content sitting with our Jesus.

We are better able to identify the sacrifice that God gave with sending Jesus.  And while we didn’t willingly sacrifice our daughter, we can understand the pain associated with watching your special child die.

While we still have sadness, we choose to see the Hope that we have in Christ.  Without Him, our lives would feel empty, our daughter’s death would feel so pointless, but we know that God will use your life and our testimony in the middle of our grief to bring Him glory.

We thank Him for the time we did have with you, our precious baby doll Lena and hope to be found faithful to God as we always remember the changes that came because our little girl had to die.

We will love you and miss you - forever and always my baby you’ll be.

Love you to the moon and back,

Momma