Today marks Isaiah's six month "birthday."  It has been the easiest birthday so far--not sure why this is, but I am thankful that, for today at least, the weight of grief does not feel quite so crushing. 
After church, I visited the cemetery.  Sitting beside Isaiah's grave was very peaceful.  (I can't believe how I've changed in the last 6 months... I would have never thought I would enjoy sitting in a grave yard :) Just one of the many ways that experiencing death has made me into a different person.)
We have had a busy month.  With each activity, I picture what it would be like to have Isaiah with us.  He is constantly on my mind!
Over the last month, we have:

Played at the Park

Visited the Baltimore Aquarium

Gone Apple Picking!

Celebrated Birthdays (Princess Style!!)(Cant believe my girls are so big!)

 

 

Dearest Isaiah,

I miss you so very much.  Today, at your grave, I asked God if He would tell you how much I love you.  I'm not sure how that works, I'm kinda hoping that maybe you can even see us...  Anyways, I do love you.  So much.  Looking forward to the day when we will be re-united...I think I will spend the first few years of eternity just holding you close! :) 

Happy 6 month "birthday"!

Love always,

Mom 

 



Today, I was shopping with my mom and girls and ran into a former co-worker.  After talking for a bit, she turned and asked my mom how many grandchildren she has.  My heart sank as my mom stumbled over her words saying six and then saying seven.  I wanted to burst into tears right there!

Later, my mom asked me what I wanted her to say when people ask that question.  Without hesitation, I told her to include Isaiah in the count.

What do ya'll do?  When people ask how many children you have, do you just tell them the total number (3 in my case) and not explain where that third one is.  Or do you say three and then explain the whole story?   Or do you say two here and one in heaven?

Arggg.  Will this grieving stuff ever get easier?

On a slightly lighter note...Love some of the lyrics of the song Forever Reign by One Sonic Society....

"You are light...
When the darkness closes in

You are hope...
You've covered all my sin

You are peace...
When my fear is crippling

You are truth...
Even in my wandering

You are joy...
You're the reason that I sing

You are life...
In You death has lost it's sting

 

You are more...
Than my words will ever say

You are Lord...
All creation will proclaim

You are here...
In Your presence I'm made whole

You are God...
Of all else I'm letting go"

I'm really really thankful for my daughters.

• Yesterday, my 2 year old brings me two flowers (well, they were actually weeds!).  Handing me one, she says "This one for Isaiah". Thanking her, I take the flower.   "And this one for you" she says as she hands me the second one. Can I cry?  :)
• At night, Daniel and I usually pray with the  girls.  Well my two year old has pretty much prayed the same sentence in every prayer since Isaiah died. In her precious two year old voice, she asks God to "Help momma feel better."  Oh the sweetness of a child's faith and love. 

 



I really really enjoy running in the mornings.  It is one place in my life where I feel like I am, at least somewhat, in control (I can run fast or slow), where I know just what to expect (the tough spots-- ie hills --are always in the exact same spot, no surprises), where I dont have to fake anything (I can even cry... its dark so no one sees my face), and where I get to be a spectator of God's unharmed-by-man-handiwork (some of the sunrises are just amazing). 

 



I'm really really affected by the weather.  It has been cloudy and drizzling ("tinkling" as my daughters say) for two days now.  I'm fighting the temptation to climb into bed and just cry.  Instead, I think I will get my two girls and my mom and go shopping!

(insert picture of Target here!)

 



I'm really really longing for Heaven.  The heartache of many fellow mommas is weighing heavily on my heart.... a momma who was forced to say goodbye way to soon to her teenage daughter because of a car accident; a momma who buried her precious 9 year old son last week after his long battle with a progressive disease, a momma struggling to survive a battle with breast cancer so that she may live to raise her precious adopted daughter, a momma who may be a single mom soon because of a crazy, unexpected stroke that may claim the life of her husband... Truly it feels as if "the whole creation has been groaning..." (Rom 8:23).  "Oh God, the sadness and suffering of so many women is so great.  Please, God, hold these dear precious mommas in Your gentle arms.  May their weary souls find rest in You.  In our sadness, help us to cling to the Cross...the love and hope that it represents. Thank You for the Cross... because of it, our greatest need has been met."

(image via pinterest)



Now... off to do some "shop therapy"....

Dearest Isaiah,

Today marks your 5month "birth" day.  Precious baby... I miss you so much.  So much that my heart just feels like it will soon be crushed from the weight of the grief, so much that my arms literally ache from the emptiness.  I am still in complete shock that you are not here.  I cant believe that you were still born...    You were growing so well...  The pregnancy was going so well... There were no problems.  How is it possible that you died?  What caused you to die? 

Sometimes, I just want to throw something.

Your cousin was born this week.  Little E.  Perfectly healthy, perfectly alive.  A. gave birth at home.  Water broke, labor began, 3 hours later.. E was here.  Crying.  Breathing.  Healthy.  Beautiful.  I'd be completely lying if I said I wasnt jealous.  Very jealous. I was hoping and dreaming of a natural birth.  I was so looking forward to not having to endure a c-section.  How silly that seems now... I would endure any amount of surgery/pain just to have you be alive and healthy. 

So, now, your 2 cousins are here.  L who is 2 months younger than you.  And E who is 5 months younger than you.  But you, of course, are not here.

Sometimes, I just want to climb into bed and sob.

Oh Isaiah.  Life used to seem to simple.

And so good. 

I now know that life is hard.  There is suffering.  There is sadness.  Bad things really do happen.  People really do die.

BUT, with this realization, comes the deep understanding of just what my Savior did for me.  I am learning that He met my greatest need.  My greatest need was not a cushy life.  It was not freedom from adversity.  My greatest need was for forgiveness.  For reconciliation with a pefect God.  For life after death.  And that is what Jesus, my Savior, my precious Savior,  did on the cross.  He met my greatest need.

And so I grieve.  But I grieve with a glimmer of hope.  Hope because I know that I will see you again.

Sweet Isaiah, I love you.  I love you to the moon and back!!

Momma   



Wow--this past month has been hard.  . 
Overall, though, I think the journey has gotten a little easier... I'm not feeling the need to hide out at home and grieve 24/7, I'm not dreading play dates with friends as much, I've been able to hold my 3 month old nephew without sobbing, and I've been able to talk to my sister-in-law about her pregnancy and the anticipated arrival of her son...
Even though it has been much slower than I had hoped, I can look back and see that I have made progress along this rough path... definitely thankful for progress!

I've written some about my four year old daughter and the way that she has handled losing Isaiah.  Suffice it to say, it has not been an easy journey for her.  One of the things that I decided to do to help her express her grief was to make an "Isaiah Book".  We went to Target and picked out a photo album, then I let her select some pictures that she wanted to put into her book.  After that, she told me exactly where she wanted each picture placed and what she wanted me to write beside each picture.  She drew in some pictures as well.  I wasn't sure how she would feel about the book, but she really got into it!  Now, she keeps it on a shelf beside her bed and looks at it from time to time.  I'm hoping that it will always be a precious reminder to her of her little brother.  

 

 

 

 



The night before last, Daniel, the girls, and I were working on a puzzle together (princesses, of course!).  I glanced down to the pieces that my 2 year old daughter had been working on and started to laugh... She had found two pieces that looked like they should go together, but did not, and decided to make them work by placing a sticker on them--in essence taping them together.  :) 
After laughing, I realized that sometimes that is just what I do with my life.  My life is sort of like a puzzle.  The picture is not complete yet,  God is still working on it. Sometimes, I get anxious and try to hurry the process or try to make various pieces fit.  Instead of letting God do the work, I jam pieces together and then apply tape to hold it together.  It may work for awhile, but the picture is not as beautiful as it could/should be and, ultimately, it wont hold up. 
A good current example, with the adoption journey that we have begun, I want to speed things up.  I want the perfect situation to come along NOW.  Already, we have been presented with several situations where an adoptive family is needed.  But have said no each time because we have felt like God was telling us to wait.  BUT I've been tempted to manipulate circumstances to make the situations work.  Like the puzzle, though, if I just wait and allow God to put the pieces together, the end result will be much more beautiful than anything I could do on my own.  He is a good God.  And He is at work!   

At times, I struggle, still, with truly believing that God loves me.  I question His love... how could He love me when He allowed my precious son to die.  Would a good God allow death?  But during these times of struggle, I try to focus on Truth:
     "God's unfailing love for us is an objective fact affirmed over and over in the Scriptures.  It is true whether we believe it or not.  Our doubts do not destroy God's love, nor does our faith create it.  It originates in the very nature of God, who is love, and it flows to us through our union with His beloved Son." (from the book Trusting God Even When Life Hurts)
Our union with His beloved Son... please read this post to get a good picture of what Christ's love drove Him to do for each of us and why His love can sustain us through each moment (yes, even the moments when our hearts are shattering).

Dear God,
Today marks Isaiah's 4month "birthday".  I can't believe that it has already been four months since he died.  Has it really been four months since I saw that screen that was so terribly still, four months since the doctor shook her head sadly, four months since my heart completely shattered?
God, I still don't understand why You allowed him to die.  Why, Abba Father, why?  Oh how I wish I knew.  Sometimes, I still feel angry with You that You did not spare his life.  But, God, I believe that You are good.  And I believe that You are near to the broken hearted. And I believe that You are working out Your perfect plan.  And I CHOOSE TO TRUST.
God, there have been many many tears today.  Oh God, how I long for Eternity...when all things will be made right.  Where every tear will be wiped away.   
God, I know that You are a God who delights in redemption, in bringing beauty from ashes.  I pray that You would redeem this situation and bring good from bad.  Where the memories bring intense and crushing pain, please bring peace.  Where the intimate knowledge that death can happen to anyone at anytime brings fear and panic, please bring trust.  Where unanswered questions bring guilt, please bring rest.  Where news of healthy babies brings jealousy, please bring joy.  I ask that You would bring beauty from the ashes of Isaiah's death.  In my life, in Daniel's life, and in the lives of my two precious daughters, please, please make this a beautiful thing.
God, I have wrestled with my understanding of who You are more in the past 4 months than the previous 30+ years.  Continue to help me to know the real You.  Continue to help that relationship grow.  I need You now more than ever.
Your daughter,
Julie
PS Please tell my precious baby boy that his momma loves him so very much.

I remember that my OBGYN said, as she was discharging me from the hospital, to wait 3-5months before trying to conceive.  I just laughed... no way was I even thinking about doing this again anytime soon.  Well, now that I've hit the 4month mark (well on the 14th), I find myself thinking about the possibility of having another baby. The thought brings excitement to my heart.  A certain joy.  However, we are not contemplating trying to get pregnant right now.  But, we are thinking about adoption.  Yes, adoption.  That might seem kinda shocking, I know.  Below is the letter that my husband and I wrote to our friends and family explaining our new journey--hopefully it does an adequate job of describing our hearts. 

Dear Friends,

      We just wanted to let each of you know how much your support and encouragement has meant to our family as we have journeyed down the difficult path of saying goodbye to our son.  We truly feel that God has demonstrated His mighty love for us through each of you.  What a blessing every note, meal, hug, and prayer have been—thank you!
We also wanted to let you know that we are excited about beginning the process of pursuing adoption.  We want to share our hearts in regards to this issue and to invite each of you to come alongside us and journey with us.

First, a little background…

Before Daniel and I were married, we discussed our desire to one day adopt.  Adoption is very important to us for many reasons:

• Orphans and the concept of adoption are both near and dear to the heart of our Savior.
• So many verses speak to this truth:
• James 1:27 - Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to care for the orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.
• Isaiah 1:17 - Learn to do good; Seek justice, Rebuke the oppressor; defend the fatherless, plead for the widow.
• Psalm 146:9 - The Lord watches over the strangers; He relieves the fatherless and widow;
• Job 29:12 - Because I delivered the poor who cried out, the fatherless and the one who had no helper.
• Psalm 68:5-6 - A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in His holy habitation. God sets the solitary in families; He brings out those who are bound into prosperity;   
• As John Piper so eloquently states:

God did not have to use the concept of adoption to explain how he saved us, or even how we become part of his family. He could have stayed with the language of new birth so that all his children were described as children by nature only. But he chose to speak of us as adopted as well as being children by new birth. This is the most essential foundation of the practice of adoption.

·         Adoptive families are greatly needed.

o        Every 18 seconds another child becomes an orphan, without a mother or father.

o        “There are 140 million children who have individual faces, laughs, and personalities. And those are 140 million children who live without parents, may cry alone at night, and may feel unloved.” (show hope.org)

o        “While the church has for many years championed the cause of the unborn through pro-life activity, it has not been nearly as supportive in finding homes for the newborn children of these crisis pregnancies. If we are going to be pro-life, we must also be "pro-adoption!"  The damage done to women through abortion is truly horrible. Post-abortion stress syndrome affects tens of thousand of women, making them vulnerable to many physical and psychological illnesses. But worse than these problems is the weight of guilt that many women bear for years due to the taking of the life of their unborn child. Studies show that birth fathers suffer many of the same difficulties. By making adoption more common, more women will choose to place their children into the permanent embrace of a loving Christian home.”  (cafadopt.org)

The need is great and adoption is important to God.  The more we saw the need and saw the heart of our Savior, the more passionate we became about adoption.  So, last summer, we began the process of being approved for the “Foster to Adopt” program through DSS.  During the middle of the process, we found out that we were expecting a baby.  We decided that we should put that process on hold, but that we would resume a year or two after the baby was born.  We even decided to start an “adoption fund” so that we would have the finances needed when that time came.

Well, as you know, our precious son, Isaiah, was stillborn.  Only those who have had to walk this path can fathom the grief and heartache that we have felt.  Our hearts have truly been broken.  God has been so faithful, though, and has stilled the waves, walked with us through the waters, and not allowed the fire to burn us (Psalm 89:9 & Isaiah 43:2).

No one can ever replace our son.  His life was precious to us, it had purpose, and we will hold his memory near to our hearts.  One day, praise God, we will see him again!  But, he is not here.  The crib is here, the rocking chair is here, the stroller and the car seat are both here, our open arms and hearts are here.  These things are here….but they are empty.

Orphans….  140 million orphans are there.  Real children.  Really there.   

Our prayer is that God would bring the right birth mom and baby at the right time.  So that we would be able to provide a very brave woman with the comfort of knowing that her baby is safe and loved.  So that there would be one less orphan.  So that Light would shine from darkness.  Beauty would come from ashes.  Joy would replace mourning. 

Again, the words of John Piper so accurately describe our hearts: “I realize more than ever ‘that the mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.’ This decision is not merely a tabulation of pros and cons…Yet I am persuaded that this decision to adopt honors God more than not adopting.”
We would never, in a million years, have planned this journey that we have been on.  It has not been easy.  But we know that God is sovereign, and that He is near.  He has a plan for our lives—we are excited about this path that He is establishing for us.  We are so thankful for how each of you, our brothers and sisters in Christ, have journeyed with us over the past months.  Hopefully, we have been able to share with you our excitement about adoption, and we humbly ask that you continue to journey with us!  Please join us in praying that God would be honored, that His will would be accomplished, and that He would unite us with the right birth mom at the right time! 

Much Love,

 Daniel & Julie

After Isaiah died, Eternity became more real to me.  I always believed that Eternity was real, but, on April 14th, it became more real.  And I started thinking and talking about it more.  One day, my mom and I were talking about Heaven and she said that when we are there, we will look back at our life here on earth and it will probably seem like a dream.  Not that it didn't happen, but that its significance was small compared to Eternity.
If that is true, then I definitely want to spend more time/effort on things that are of eternal value vs. things that are just of earthly value.
So, I decided to volunteer at our local crisis pregnancy center.  Wow--it has been so good.  I go there to serve, but it has blessed me so very much.  When I am there, I realize that life is hard.  It is not perfect.  There is brokenness.  I am not the only one that is hurting.   These women are crying because they too have broken hearts.  Broken by those that were supposed to love them, but instead took advantage of them, causing them to endure torment that no little girl should endure.  It reminds me to cling to my Savior--to set my hope on Him and to not try to search for satisfaction in this broken, messed up world. 
I don't understand why Isaiah died.  I don't understand why these women have had to endure indescribable pain.
My whole being is crying out from the pain of it all, but in faith, I believe that He will redeem that which was lost.  He will make it right.  Death will be no more.  Evil will be punished. 
Beauty will come from ashes.
Oh how I long for that day.        

This morning my in-laws decided to take the girls to the zoo.  It was not easy to let them go (recently losing a child = fear that you will lose your other children).   However, it did allow me some time to just sit and be quiet.  Which I did.  As I sat in Isaiah's nursery, praying and thinking, the issue of guilt flooded my heart and mind.  I have been struggling with feeling very guilty about Isaiah's death.  While no reason for his death has been found, I feel very responsible.  I opted for the VBAC.  If I had gone through with a repeat C-section, he would have been born alive.  But I pushed for the VBAC.  I switched doctors mid pregnancy so that I could have the VBAC.  I did not protect my son.  I cant describe the pain that these thoughts have caused.  How could a good mom not protect her precious son from death?
As I was struggling and crying, it was like God spoke this question to me... "Did you sin? What did you do that was wrong?"  I paused and thought about that for a bit. 
Well, nothing I guess.
In deciding to try for a VBAC, I did not knowingly do anything wrong.  My husband was ok with it.  My new doctor (and the rest of the 8 doctors in that practice) were ok with it.  I read and researched.  I researched and read.  I was doing what I thought was best.  Best for him, best for me, best for future children we may have.  So, no, I did not knowlingly do anything sinful.
So, then it was like God said "Well, then, why are you feeling guilty?" 
Hmmm, I thought, I don't know.  I just feel responsible.
"Could I have made you want a repeat c-section instead of a vbac?"
Yes.
"Could I have made you go into labor a couple days early?"
Yes. 
And the biggest question... "Could I have saved his life if I had chosen?"
Yes.
"Then who is ultimately responsible for Isaiah's death?"
You, Lord. 
"Then, my dear child, do not feel guilty.  Release these feelings of guilt.  Rest in the fact that I am sovereign and although you can not see it, I have a plan.  A very good plan.  Just trust.  You are a good mom.  You did what was right.  You would have done anything to save your son.  I know that.  I know how much you loved him.  Do not feel guilty.  I am in control.  Rest, my daughter, just rest."

Death stole the life of my son.  God says that death is an enemy.  One day, it will be defeated.  But right now it is here...stealing life.
Death stole the life of my precious son.  It stole other things as well:

• the joy of getting to know my son-- Until Heaven, I will not know anything about my precious boy...Was he athletic like his father? Musical like his grandfather? Outdoorsey like his uncle? Was he kind? Introverted or extroverted? 
• the ability of his sisters to live carefree.  My girls now know that death is very real.  It can happen when they least expect it.  Because of this, they battle fear.  I pray that God would remove this fear from their tender hearts. 
• the ability to see pregnant women and not feel envy.  Do they know the gift they've been given?
• participating in "birth stories."  I was at our weekly play date and, besides me, there were 7 other moms.  Four of those mom were pregnant(and at least one other is ttc)!  The topic of conversation...labor and delivery.  I really dont think anyone wants to hear what it feels like to lie on an operating table in a painfully quiet room while a doctor pulls the lifeless body of your precious baby out.  So, I just sat quietly and listened. Listened while my heart, once again, broke.
• the ability to answer the following simple question ... "How many children do you have?"...without crying. 
• the ability to really, truly feel completely joyful.  Yes, there are times when I can laugh and smile.  But, because a piece of my heart is missing, I dont feel truly joyful.  I'm not sure if it will always be this way...

Death is an awful enemy.  But, it will be defeated one day!

Rev 21:4  "and He shall wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there shall no longer be any death; there shall no longer be any mourning, or crying or pain" 

What an awesome picture.... Jesus, tenderly wiping away our tears, comforting us with the knowledge that the enemy death has been defeated.  Jesus has conquered it.  It can no longer steal that which is so dear to us.  Oh how I long for that day!    

More things to be thankful for:

                                       Little girls who conquer their fear of "the big slide"!

A "Pop" who enjoys reading to his grandchildren.

A dad who loves his girl.

Silly girls with crazy curls.

"Remembering is an act of thanksgiving, a way of thanksgiving, this turn of the heart over time's shoulder to see all the long way His arms have carried. 
In memory, the shape of God's yesterday-heart emerges and assures of God's now-heart and reassures of His sure beat tomorrow.  ... It is thanksgiving that shapes a theology of trust... Isn't this what ultimately Christ asks of us in the Last Supper?  ... Do this in remembrance of me.  Remember and give thanks.  This is the crux of Christianity: to remember and give thanks, eucharisteo."

This excerpt is from one of my favorite books... 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp.

"In everything, give thanks."
 Losing my son, though? Should I really give thanks in that? 
Yes, I think so. 
Because, I'm realizing that when we force ourselves to thank our Heavenly Father, we receive a gift.  In thanking Him, we come to really, truly see that He is trustworthy, that He is good.  And then, in turn, we can face the future and be unafraid of what it holds. 

So, as I lay in bed this morning, I decided to try to come up with a list of things that I was thankful for during the days surrounding the loss of my son:

• For my husband who tenderly took care of me as my heart shattered in a million pieces.
• For a sweet nurse who cradled my sons body so gently, bathing him and dressing him as if he were alive.
• For a doctor who cried.
• For a friend who simply gave a silent hug with tears streaming down her face.
• For my brother who held my son. 
• For sister in laws who came to the hospital to just sit and be there.
• For a mother in law who took care of my precious daughters while her own heart was breaking.
• For my precious girls who came with sweet gifts to cheer up their momma.
• For a nurse who herself knew the pain of stillbirth.
• For my mom who didn't leave my side, weeping when I wept, comforting as only a mom can.
• For my dad who sat by my bed and reminded me of Truth.
• For a photographer who took beautiful pictures of my son.
• For a "records & certificates" lady who first gave a hug and whispered words of comfort before doing the job she is paid to do.
• For friends, so many friends, who prayed, cried, sent hundreds (literally!) of cards, made meals, visited, cleaned my home..... precious, precious friends
• For people that I have never met who sent letters and gave money.
• For a group at church who decided to cover the cost of the mortuary.

I am so thankful for all these things and there are many, many more. 
But the thing I am most thankful for is:

• A God who gave His own son and who promised:

                   When you pass through the waters, 
                    I will be with you;
                    and when you pass through the rivers,
                    they will not sweep over you. Is 43:2

        and He was faithful to keep His promise. 

What about you? In remembering your darkest time, is there anything you can give thanks for?

Its been a bit over a week since I last posted.  For some reason, I haven't felt like writing.  I've just wanted to get away from "it" all.  I haven't wanted to read other blogs, I haven't wanted to be a "baby lost mom", I've just wanted to be a mom.  A mom with a 4 year old, a 2 year old, and a 12 week old.  A happy, carefree mom with a 4 year old, 2 year old, and 12 week old. 
But I cant get away from it.  It's there.  I was pregnant, I had a precious life growing inside me, I was excited, I was just on the verge of celebrating one of the happiest days of my life, and it was all stolen from me. 
I'm weary.  I'm weary of seeing reminders and feeling sharp stabs of pain.  I'm weary of not knowing whether today is going to be a good day or a bad day.  I'm weary of feeling intensely jealous toward all the beautiful preggo mommas around me.  I'm weary of fighting the lies that God does not care.

"God, please give me strength to walk through this difficult time."

"He shields all who take refuge in him" psalm 18:30

My God is a shield. 
He can protect against all the arrows that come my way.  But I have to choose whether or not I want to be protected.  I have to choose to take refuge. How do I take refuge in him?
By saturating my mind with Truth. 

Here is the Truth:
God is in control.
He does hold the keys to life and death. 
Isaiah's days were in His hands
He loves me.
He understands intense sadness.
He was not punishing me.
I am not at fault.
He will bring "beauty from ashes".
I will see my son again. 

"Thank you God for truth.  Bind it around my heart.  Be my shield today."

Thankful.

I know I've said it before, but I just want to say it again.... I am so thankful for the internet and the blogs of fellow mommas that have had to say goodbye to their precious babies.  Oh how I wish that no momma ever had to say goodbye, it is so terribly wrong and painful.  When I'm having a rough day, though, I log on and read your stories--stories of how you are learning to walk again, to live again, to laugh again and to trust again. And I come away so very encouraged. 
One of the blogs that I have been reading is http://mycharlieangel.wordpress.com/.  It is written by Anna.  I was so surprised when I logged on to read her latest and found that she had nominated me for "Inspiring Blog Award"

Thank you Anna!

So, I guess I need to tell 7 interesting facts about myself:

1.  I love nutrition--nerdy i know (or thats what my husband thinks)! .  The human body is very interesting (I am a physical therapist), and it is really neat to learn how what we eat affects our health.

2.  I am a morning person---I love love love to get up early and go for walks/jogs at the track.  In fact, I was at the track the last time that I remember feeling Isaiah kick.  

3.  I am addicted to coffee.  And chocolate.  (yep, I know this probably seems to conflict with fact number 1, but its true).

4.  I love the beach.  I have always loved the beach.  I even attempted to surf some when I was in PT school. :)

5.  I do not like to be alone.

6.  I love going on mission trips, but I hate to fly. 

7.  I tried to teach myself to sew.  I found  a very cute nursery set online, but it was super expensive.  So, I decided I would just purchase the fabric and make everything myself.  I did.  Quality wise, its not super.  But now it is a special memory--sitting at the sewing machine, working on Isaiah's nursery while he kicked and punched and moved inside of me. 

Here are just a couple of the blogs that I would like to nominate:

http://aftereva.blogspot.com/

https://jmc5407.wordpress.com/

http://www.livingafterloss.blogspot.com/

http://apieceofmyheartinheaven.blogspot.com/

Not to be repetitive, but I do appreciate all of you women who are sharing your journeys!

I long for the day when we will each be united with our sweet babies in Heaven. 



I have an ongoing struggle with "reliving" the moments leading up to and surrounding Isaiah's birth.  Usually, the flashbacks happen on Fridays and Saturdays--the day he died and the day he was delivered.  When the memories come, they bring feelings of grief, overwhelming, smothering feelings of grief, with them.  I try so hard to "take every thought captive", but it seems an impossible feat. 
Anyone else struggle with this?

On another note-- The verses below are comforting to me.  The nation of Isreal(Zion) is personified and is complaining that God has forgetten her--that He does not care about the things she is going through: 

But Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me,
the Lord has forgotten me.”

God's answer to her is:

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
I will not forget you! 
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me."

In trying to convey to Zion how much He cared for her, God used the example of a mom's love for her baby.  Wow...  Of all the examples He could use--God chose to use the example of a moms love for her baby.  He knows exactly how much I love my precious son(and that I can never forget him)--and He says His love for me is even greater than that.  His heart toward me is just as tender as my heart toward my son.  His concern for my well-being is just as great as my concern for my daughters.  His delight in me is just as sweet as my delight in my children.  Just as I hurt when my children hurt, God hurts when I hurt. 

He is a good God.

He has not forgotten me.

He knows the pain that overwhelms this momma's heart.

Oh that I would rest in His love.    

I'm not sure what to write today--there's a bunch of different thoughts swimming in this ole brain of mine.  Maybe it will just be a "salad" post:
 ~I finally made myself call the insurance company yesterday to hash out the details of Isaiah's birth.  We had been paying for maternity coverage for a long time so that we would only be responsible for 20% of the final bill.  Well, guess what?  The insurance lady(who was not very tender or warm and fuzzy) tells me that since Isaiah's birth was not "routine", it's not covered by maternity!  What???  I wanted to simultaneously laugh and cry and yell.  I beg your pardon....his birth was oh so routine.  It was just that he was dead.  And because he was dead, you are telling me that maternity coverage does not apply?  Oh ok.  ARGGGG.  Instead of yelling to her about how unjust that was, I politely ended the conversation and then proceeded to call my mom and yell about how unjust that was.  (so thankful for my mom!)
~Crazy guilt bug--it bit again this morning.  Why didn't I have the csection?  Why was I trying for a VBAC?   "Oh Isaiah, I'm so sorry."
~Worry-- Since Isaiah's death, I, on the one hand, worry about every little thing("bad" things really do happen!), but, on the other hand, I have peace because I know that no matter what happens, God will help me through it.    Does that make sense?  I guess I have been hit with the fact that death is real.  I mean I always knew that everyone must die, but death was somehow abstract.  Now, death is all too real.  But, so is God.  And Heaven.  Whatever comes, He will be faithful to help me.
~I'm so thankful for the Internet.  And for blogs.  It has been so encouraging to read the journeys of other moms. 
~Below is a song that has been an encouragement to me. 

So today, I was in the check out lane of Whole Foods.  The checkout lady says, "Are you a new mom?" I'm not exactly sure what she means --shouldn't it be obvious by the ages of my children that I am not, in fact, a new mom. 
"Um, no" I say. 
Then it starts to dawn on me...she probably recognizes me and is wondering where the baby is.  "Didn't you just have a baby?" she asks. 
In the split second that followed, before I answered, I think to myself--poor lady, she really doesn't know the can of worms she just opened.
"Well, yes, I did, but he died."  I said.  (Probably could have stated that a little better!). 
I'm absolutely positive that she wasn't expecting that answer!  But I'll have to hand it to her--she kept her composure. :) 
When I told her that we did not know why he died, she proceeded to tell me something about nature having its ways.... I wanted to say, um no, it was not nature, it was not some random accident, God is in control.  But I decided that getting into a theological discussion in the middle of Whole Foods may not be the best thing.  :)
Has anyone else had to explain where their baby is? 
I've been dreading that question, but I actually ended up feeling more sorry for her than for me. 

Dearest Isaiah~

Today, you would be two months old.  I can hardly believe that it has been two months since you were born.  I feel like it was just yesterday. 

Here is how your momma is doing at two months:
~I don't cry every day.  I cry most days, but not every day.
~I enjoy sitting in your room.  It makes me feel close to you.
~I still have not returned to our play group.  I just can't bear to see all the beautiful preggo mommas and the precious babies.
~I finally took your car seat out of the car.  I did that last Friday.  It was hard.  But I did it.
~I don't visit your grave too often.  There's two reasons: 1. We have not shown your grave to your sisters yet.  So, if I want to go, I have to get a sitter or wait till nighttime.  2. It makes me focus too much on your physical body and not on your spirit--which is in Heaven--alive and well.
~I still sleep with the blanket that they wrapped you in at the hospital. 
~I still wrestle with God.  Mostly, I trust Him and trust His great love for me.  Sometimes, though, I still question why, and wonder if He really does love me. 
~I have a hard time finding enjoyment in things I used to enjoy--like reading blogs on home decorating/DIY.  It seems too trivial somehow. 
~I held your sweet cousin for the first time today.  He is a week old.  And so precious.  I didn't cry.  But oh to see his mom snuggle with him--how I wish I could snuggle with you for just one minute.  Hear your sweet baby sounds, feel your soft baby skin, let your little head rest on my shoulder...

Oh Isaiah.  I love you so much.  So very very much.
I'm so thankful that I had the privilege of carrying you for nine months.  I'm so thankful that you are in Heaven, and that I will see you one day.
But....I miss you so much.

Love always,
Momma

I started reading the book "One Thousand Gifts" several months before I gave birth to Isaiah.  I finished it about 2 weeks ago.  It has been a comfort to this broken heart.  Here is a long but good excerpt.  I hope it is as encouraging to you as it is to me.  The background--she is driving a car and thinking about some bad things that her and different friends of hers have experienced.  She begins to struggle with whether or not God can really be trusted?


"The words sear.  I know their voices and I remember their faces and the sun spills from window glass, slants gold across steering wheel.  Eyes on the road, yellow line dashing like a line on hold, I wait, just wait.  In the wait, memories blister.  And in the still, Spirit comes and He whispers a name.
Christ.
And I see a world through His lens:  "He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all--how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?" (Romans 8:32 NIV).
He gave us Jesus.  Jesus! Gave Him up for us all.  If we have only one memory, isn't this one enough?  .... If trust must be earned, hasn't God unequivocally earned our trust with the bark on the raw wounds, the thorns pressed into the brow, your name on the cracked lips? ... When bridges seem to give way, we fall in to Christ's safe arms, true bridge, and not into hopelessness.  It is safe to trust! 
We can be too weak to go on because His strength is made perfect in utter brokenness and nail-pierced hands help up.  It is safe to trust! ... Theres a good God leading, working all things into good. It is safe to trust!  The million bridges behind us may seem flattened to the earthly eye, but all bridges ultimately hold, fastened by nails.
It is safe to trust.
Each bridge I need cross, from one moment to moment the next, is wholly safe, each leading me deeper into Him and closer to Home. 
And I hear that hurting voice again...There are moments that as sure as I bruise don't feel like good things have been given.  What of all the memories where Christ seems absent?... Trauma's storm can mask the Christ and feelings can lie. 
I draw all the hurting voices close and I touch their scars with a whisper: sometimes we don't fully see that in Christ, because of Christ, through Christ, He does give us all things good--until we have the perspective of years.
In time, years, dust settles.
In memory, ages, God emerges.
... The bridge and our lives shake not because God has abandoned, but the exact opposite:  God is passing by.  God is in the tremors.  Dark is the holiest ground, the glory passing by.  In the blackest, God is closest, at work... Though it is black and we cant see and our world seems to be free-falling and we feel utterly alone, Christ is most present..."  Ann Voskamp  One Thousand Gifts.

Right now--I feel alone and my world is dark and I am free-falling.  But I know that God is real.  And that He loves me.  And, one day, I will see...and understand. 

June 9th, 2012
Dear Isaiah--Oh sweet Baby--The Last 48 hours have been gut wrenching hard.  Your uncle (Will) called to let me know that Jess was in labor.  A few hours later, your sweet cousin was born.  Jess had the perfect labor and delivery.  The kind I had dreamed of.  Liam was beautiful.  It was everything I had dreamed of and longed for and hoped for.  I went to the hospital and was there when he was born.  I saw the joy in Wills face.  I saw precious Liam. 
Oh Isaiah--the emotions of the past 48 hours have been similar to what I felt in the days after I delivered you.  Crushing grief.  Lots of tears.  So very empty.  I knew it would be hard--but not this hard.  Honestly, I am struggling with God again. 
How is it that my brother is rejoicing over his son, and everyone is saying that God is so good?  Is He good because He gave them a perfect delivery and healthy son?  Is God good because He gave Will that?  Is giving Will a healthy baby boy the sign that God's favor rests on him?  Does God love Will more than He does me?  Is the number of blessings in our lives the measure of how much God loves us?  If so, then God does not love me.
But I don't think that is really true. 
Just like my love for my children is not measured in how many gifts I give them, God's love for me is not measured in how many gifts He gives me.  Just like my love for my children is not less when I bring "pain" into their lives (making them take a nap, making them eat broccoli, not buying every toy they ask for...), God's love for me is not less because He allowed you to die. 
The measure of God's love is that He gave His one and only Son.  Gave Him for us all--for Will, for me, for Liam, for you, Isaiah. 
"Blessings" in this life are not a measure of God's love for us. 
Yes, God does give us "good" things--but He also gives us "bad" things.  He did give Will a healthy son.  He did allow you to die.
But, He loves us both. 
He is good in both circumstances. 
I have to trust Him and truly trust that He loves me--no matter what He brings into my life.  Just like my children have to truly trust that I love them.  Someday they will understand why I made them eat their broccoli.  Someday, I will understand why He allowed you to die. 

"Mommy--why are you talking so sad?"
"Oh. Am I talking sad?"
"Yes"
"Well, I guess it's because I'm feeling a little sad."
"About Isaiah?"
"Yes, about Isaiah."

Seeing my eldest daughter walk through the death of her brother has been so heart wrenching.  She is four (and 1/2 to be exact).  Her world has been rocked--in a way that a sweet four year old should never have to experience.  She has had a crash course in death, Heaven, grieving, life not going as planned.  I have learned that when she starts acting out, she is hurting.  Struggling.  So, I try to talk with her.  Inevitably, it comes out that she is worried that the rest of us may die and leave her alone.  Wow.  How do I even begin to answer that?  Can I promise her that won't happen? No.  I try to point her to God.  To the fact that He is in control.  He loves us.  He will take care of us no matter what.  He is, and will be, with us.  But its hard, because those things take faith to believe.  They cant be seen.  If I struggle with these concepts(and I do!), how do I expect her to grasp them?  I pray that God removes the fear from her heart.  And from mine.

I feel bad about my parenting right now.  Along with just about everything else, it has suffered.  I just don't always have the emotional strength to be patient.  Sometimes, I feel like the sadness/grief is overwhelming--in those times, how do I give of myself to these precious girls?  The other day, my youngest was kinda acting "spastic" around dinner time--grabbing at things/hyper/typical 2 year old behavior.  Well, she attempted to get my water bottle off of the counter (probably to bring it to her thirsty mommy--so sweet) and it spilled.  ARGGGG.  I was trying to get dinner on the table.  Trying not to think about my empty arms.  Trying not to give into the desire to crawl into bed and pull the cover of my head.  Trying to just make it.  When the water spilled, I just couldn't try anymore.  I over reacted.  Then, immediately, I felt bad.  Why couldnt I have been more patient with her? 

This grieving stuff is flat out hard. 

Since the moment that I learned that my sweet Isaiah had died, I have struggled with God.
Who is He?
I thought I knew.
But in that instant, when my world came crashing down, I was no longer sure of the things that I had been sure of just a day before.
I continue to struggle some with who God is, but, in all my wrestling, here is what I've come to be sure about:
    1.  God is real.  I just dont buy the hocus pocus that we evolved from slime.
    2.  God is powerful.  If He wasnt, would He be God?  I think believing that He is powerful comes pretty naturally to most of us.  A god that's not powerful is not really a god, is it?
    3.  God is good/God loves me.  This is the hard thing to believe.  Very hard.  If God is powerful, why does He allow suffering?  Honestly, I don't know.  However, I do believe that the Bible is true(why? that's a whole nother discussion, but there is a LOT of historical evidence and validity).  And the Bible says that God loved us so much that He punished His own Son so that He would not have to punish us.  He so desired a relationship with me, that He punished His only Son.  After losing my son, this truth speaks loudly.  Very loudly.  I would NOT have given my sons life for another person.  I just wouldnt have, no matter how wonderful that person was.  And God gave His son for us--people who are far from perfect.  People who dont even like Him.  This giving of His son is "the one objective, absolute, irrefutable proof of God's love for us." (John Piper--Trusting God).  God does, indeed, love us.
    4.  God cares about me and His heart breaks when mine does.  There is a story in the Bible of a man, named Lazarus, who died.  His family was grieving terribly.  They asked Jesus to come.  When He came, He wept with the family.  The crazy thing?  He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead!  Why would He cry?  Because of His compassion for those who were hurting.   He loved them.  Just as we weep when others weep, He weeps when we do.  He cares so much about us. 

Is it hard to trust that a good God would allow my son to die?  Yes.  Do I still get mad at Him sometimes? Yes.
But I keep coming back to these four thruths. 

Here is a quote from a book (one thousand gifts) that I really like:
"He gave us Jesus.  Jesus! Gave Him up for us all.  If we have only one memory, isn't this one enough?  Why is this the memory I most often take for granted?  He cut open the flesh of the God-Man and let the blood.  He washed our grime with the bloody grace.  He drove the iron ore through His own vein.  Doesn't that memory alone suffice? Need there be anything more? If God didnt withold from us His very own Son, will God withold anything we need? If trust must be earned, hasn't God unequivocally earned our trust with the bark on the raw wounds, the thorns pressed into the brow, your name on the cracked lips? How will He not also graciously give us all things He deems best and right.  He's already given the incomprehensible." 

Because God has already given the incomprehensible (His son), I can trust Him. 
Because I can trust Him, I can make it through one more day without my son. 

Marriage is wonderful.  And so very difficult.
I'm definitely no expert on marriage, and there are many reasons why it is so difficult ("God, could you have made men and women slightly more alike???"), but I think one reason it is so difficult is because communication is so very difficult.  And when you have difficulty communicating with the person you live with, things can get a little tough. Or terrible! 
So marriage and communication are hard in and of themselves.  Try adding a little grief to the pot!
Daniel and I have been struggling to keep our marriage strong through this difficult time.  We did really well at first.  Then, it got a little harder.  Why?  I'm not sure.  Maybe one of the following:
~It's hard for me to cry in front of Daniel (especially if he seems to be having an  ok day).  So, I just stuff my feelings.
~It's easy to feel just flat out irritated at Daniel over little things(like I cant believe he stopped at starbucks on the way home--didnt he know I needed help with the girls???)  
~I'm tired.  I'm tired physically. I'm tired emotionally.  I'm very tired.  And as soon as the girls are in bed, I want to go to sleep.  When that happens, we dont get a chance to even try communicating.
~I'm grieving differently than Daniel is grieving.  Another one of the wonderful differences between men and women. 
~I'm grieving the loss of different things than Daniel. 
~I'm too emotionally drained to fight.  If there's even potential for disagreement, we quickly retreat.  He goes into his cave.  I go into mine.  I guess it's a protective thing.  But it doesnt help in bringing us closer.

As you can see, our marriage is not easy right now. 
But we are committed to sticking it out.  To walking down this difficult path together. 
In the end, I pray we have a stronger, better marriage than ever before. 

Let me know if you have or are struggling with anything similar! (Then I wont feel so crazy!).

Guilt.   
I am struggling with it.
Majorly.
As of right now, we do not know why Isaiah died.  There is no known cause of death (which is completely crazy.  Seriously, shouldn't there be an obvious cause?  Babies don't just stop breathing for no reason do they? But that's a whole nother subject...).  Anyways, I think back to everything that I did that possibly could have contributed to my precious son's death:
~I flew across the country at 6 weeks.  Maybe it was the radiation.  I was scared to fly, but everyone said it would be ok.  I wish I had put my foot down.
~I ate some meat that looked a little under-cooked.  I was at a birthday party and tried to get the steak that looked the most "well-done."   But they were all a little pink.  I wish I had been brave enough to say "No thank you". 
~My girls had some crazy rash virus.  The pediatrician (2 of them actually) assured me that it was not fifths disease, and that it was ok for me to be exposed.  The OB's office said "well, just try to avoid contact" (ohhh ok, I'll go call my nanny.  Seriously, how in the world do you just "avoid contact" with your two young children who aren't feeling well??).  I wish I had pushed for lab work to test for antibodies. 
~We decided to put in hard wood floors.  The glue smelled awful.  So many chemicals.  I wish we had just waited.
~I had some stomach issues.  I asked to be tested for listeria.  They tested me.  Test  was negative but the stomach issues continued.  I knew something wasn't right.  I went to my family doc who said it was all normal and gave me stuff to keep me regular.  It didn't make anything better.  But she was adamant that it was normal.  I wish I had pushed her more.
~I suddenly developed a hole in my tooth.  I've never really had dental problems.  One small cavity my entire life.  They said I needed a root canal.  And a crown.  I was scared.  They assured me that it was ok for the baby.  I didn't want any metal--pure porcelain.  There was miscommunication and they gave me some metal.  I wish I had put my foot down and said no.  I wish I had done more research.
~And finally, the biggest source of guilt---I didn't have a c-section.  I had c-sections with both girls.  I was trying for a vbac this time.   If I had gone on and had a c-section, Isaiah would have been born alive.  (Not sure what would have happened after that, but at least he would have been born alive).  Oh how I wish I had scheduled the c-section. 

The guilt is so intense at times.  When I first learned he had died, all I could say was "I'm so sorry"  Over and over, I said it.  "I'm so so sorry." 

As a mom, you would do anything to protect your children.  Anything. 
I couldn't give my precious son life.

I wish I could have.  I wish I could go back. 

Oh Isaiah, I'm so sorry.  So so sorry.  I would do anything to give you life. 

Tonight, I am so sad.  My arms feel so empty.  The house is so quiet. 
Oh what I would give to hear my precious son cry.  I did not get to hear him cry.  I will never ever get to hear him cry. 
Most people complain when their babies cry--I'd give anything to hear mine cry. 
What a precious sound--the sound of life.

I am on a crazy emotional rollercoaster.  (And I'd really like to get off)
Some moments are ok---these are few and far between.  During these moments, I feel like I really grasp the truths that God is in control, that Isaiah is in Heaven, that his life and death had purpose, that I will see him again.  I trust the God whom I love.
Some moments are semi-ok---these are more frequent, probably the majority of my moments would fall under this category.  During these times, I am just plain sad.  My heart feels sad, broken.  My arms feel empty.  I long to hold my precious baby.  But theres no despair.  The grief is definitely there, but it's not so heavy that it feels crushing.  I can go about the day and actually get something done.  I cling to the God whom I love.
Then there are the moments that are really bad---these happen at least once a day.  During these moments, I want to scream.  I want to throw something.  I feel angry at the God whom I love.  I feel shock and disbelief that my baby died.  I feel completely heartbroken that I will never hold my little boy this side of Heaven.  I feel jealous towards the millions of women that are pregnant or have precious newborns(I honestly believe that just about 90% of them live near me because EVERYBODY  i know is pregnant or just gave birth!).  During these moments, I want to crawl in bed and sob.  The world seems dark.  I dont think I will ever smile again.  The weight of grief is crushing.  These are very hard moments.
This rollercoaster is exhausting.  And scary.  The path ahead is hidden. 
And I cant get off.

I hate to make people feel awkward.  I know people feel awkward around me.  I went to a birthday party for a friends little boy and it was like I was wearing a huge scarlet letter (except it was a big black D for death).  It was like they were thinking--"Oh there's Julie, the girl who lost her baby.  Should I say something?  What if she cries? What would I say anyways?  Maybe I'll just avoid her."
How do I know people are thinking this, how do I know they are feeling awkard? Because I've been there!  I've never known what to say to those who are grieving--in fact, not sure I should admit this, but I've even AVOIDED people who are grieving.  So, yep, I know exactly how they are feeling. And I really hate making them feel that way.  I guess thats just one more horrible emotion that I'm having to deal with. 

A Normal Day. 
Wow--how I took normal days for granted.  What I wouldnt give for just one normal day or even one half of a normal day.  A day in which the weightiest issue I faced was what to make for dinner.  A day where the sky was blue, the girls laughed, and I checked things off my never ending and oh-so-important to do list. 
Now, those things seem so far away.
And maybe so un-important. 
Maybe I really dont want those days back. 
Maybe I was just living in a pretend world.  A world I struggled hard to keep "perfect", free of any pain, nice and tidy--like the sweet smocked dresses I put on my girls.  But that's not real life, is it?  The storms will come.  The tears will fall.  The dresses get dirty and wrinkled and worn. 
So what is normal life?  Is "normal" life a real thing?
Maybe normal life is good and bad.  Laughter and tears.  Sunshine and rain.  Smocked dresses and old ratty t shirts.  Right now, my day is filled with sadness, shattered dreams, and tears.  Unforntunately, I'm realizing that this is normal.  No more pretending that pain doesnt exist.  Sometimes, life just stinks.
So where does that leave me?  Do I let myself wallow in misery?  Do I curl up on the couch and dream of sunshiny days.  Do I look at the seemingly nice lives of those around me and let envy take over my heart?
Not if God is real.
And I always said I believed He was.
If God is real, I can take comfort in Him.  I can take comfort that there is a God who is in control of the good and bad. A God who loves me; loves me very very much. A God who weeps when I weep. A God who has a purpose and a plan. A God who has promised that this life is short and that eternity (with no pain, tears, or rain) is forever!

So, where are you?  What are your thoughts on real life? Is your life sunshiney or stormy?  Smocked dresses or ratty old t-shirts?  Please share.

From my journal~

April 24, 2012
Dear Isaiah,
On Saturday, we did your burial and memorial service.  Your burial was so hard.  I had to continually remind myself that although that was your body-it was not you-I had to continually remember the image of God holding me in His right hand and you in His left.  I wanted to scream and run away though.  I did not want to hear any "good" that your life and death were bringing-- I just wanted you in my arms precious one.  Then we had dinner.  I really didnt want to be there--it was so difficult to even look at my 2 sweet pregnant sister in laws--struggling so much with jealousy.  Why God--why did you have all three of us be pregnant at the same time.  And all three pregnant with little boys...
Then came the memorial service.  Wow--so many many people came.  What a huge blessing.  During the video, I think everyone cried.  Your daddy did such a good job speaking--God helped him.  The recieving line was so long but people were so compassionate, crying with us (although by then I was no longer crying-which felt kinda weird-like we were comforting others).  Everyone said it was beautiful. 
Your sisters are doing better.  AG will finally say your name. 
Each day is getting slightly better I think, less dark feeling, more trusting that God had/has a plan for you.  So thankful for Him GIVING His only son that I may live-that you may live.
But there's still the overwhelming weight of grief that just hits and smothers me.  Then guilt hits sometimes.  And Daddy and I both still struggle with "WHY?"  Heaven seems so much more real though.  So close.  This life is such a vapor.  God is truly in control.  I always try to gain control, but I cant this time. 
Oh sweet boy, your life has truly had a huge impact.  As John B was saying--some people can live 90 years and have no impact, but others, like you, live only a short time (9months) and have a huge impact. 
I love you so dearly.
I long to see you again.
With love,
Momma

So here's my story:
I was so excited to be pregnant again.  A little nervous because my youngest had been born at 33weeks via emergency c-section due to a very low heart beat.  No one ever told me what had caused the very low heart beat.  They just said it would probably never happen again. 
This time around, I decided to buy a doppler for home use.  Just to make sure the baby's heart beat stayed ok.  And it did.  The pregnancy was very uneventful.  The baby was growing well.  I was trying for a VBAC and everything looked great.  The Monday before my due date, I had an ultrasound just to make sure baby wasnt breach.  He wasnt.  The ultrasound tech told me "If you werent trying for a VBAC, you'd probably be holding your baby right now."  Oh how those words now hurt and bring such guilt. On Thursday before my due date, baby didnt seem to be moving as much.  I checked his heart rate--142bpm--great.  On Thursday night, I checked again--just to be sure.  Still great.  On Friday, baby really was not moving much.  At 2:00, I checked his heart rate--low 140s again--still looking good.  Contractions were starting to pick up.  I was thinking that labor may be getting close.  Yea!  I'd never been in labor.  We didnt know the gender of the baby.  But we were ready.  The room was ready.  The children were ready.  Our families were ready.  Any moment now and we should be meeting our baby and beginning a lifetime of getting to know our precious one.  Well, by Friday night, baby was not moving.  I tried to find the heart rate before going to bed.  Couldnt find it.  I was worried. Got up and stayed up for awhile. Changed positions. Prayed.  Got on the the internet. Checked heart rate again---silence.  Went to bed and didnt sleep well.  In the morning, I got up, ate breakfast and had some coffee (that always woke baby up!).  Checked for heart rate--silence.  Called my mom and told her to be on standby, I was calling doc.  I called and nurse said go to hospital.  We did. 
Well, I cant write all the details of what happened next--still too painful.  A very horrific nightmare.  Baby had died.
At 4:17ish, Isaiah was born via c-section.
You never imagine that you will have to hold your dead child.  Those things dont really happen, do they?
They do...and they are worse than you can imagine.
In the midst of such horrific pain, though, there was a glimmer of light, a calm, a certain peace. 
God was there.
He held me through the arms of my husband and my mom.  He spoke to me of Eternity and of His good plans through the words of my Dad.  He showed me that He was weeping with me through the many tears of friends.   
Dont get me wrong....at some points I felt very angry towards God...how could He?!  How could He?!
But mostly I felt, I knew, I believed that He was there with me.  He really was in control.  Isaiah really was with him. 
Again...I dont want to appear like some super spiritual person...I'm not.  I've had to wrestle.  What is true? Is heaven really real?  Is God really real? If He is real, is He good?   Hard stuff. 

What about you--what's your story?  Please share.   

Losing Isaiah

On April 14th, 2012, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Isaiah.  Joyful, right? No--it was the worst day of my life.  Why?  About 8 hours before giving birth, I learned that Isaiah had died. 

This journey has been so very difficult.  So very, very difficult. 

I wanted to start a blog as a way to connect with other women who may be going through the same nightmare.  To encourage one another.  Please leave a comment if you are walking a similar path.

julie