Pregnancy

It seems to be in the air right now. People announcing they are pregnant, trying to get pregnant, struggling with a pregnancy.

And thus, it flutters concurrently in our minds and in our household. It is not just that many people around me are pregnant, it is also just us. You see, my body is a machine. A baby making machine. The moment my body delivers a baby it hops right back into looking for the next one. It is like my uterus enjoys being occupied. My pregnancies are (normally) mild and uneventful, my deliveries unnaturally fast and without complications, and I can get pregnant standing too close to mens underwear. (I come by it naturally, you should see my mom and sisters!)

And so, only weeks after Adelle's death we were forced to begin to think about it. Will we use birth control? What kind? How long? How effective? It is something we must discuss, and quickly. Not discussing it, and burying your head in the sand is, in itself, a decision. Because to allow for possibility in our family, is not just opening up a door, it is setting the flood gates free.

So for us, we don't really feel like we can just wait and see what we feel, or try to figure out what is best. And let me tell you, the feelings change every single day, and even multiple times a day.

I know I want more children, so does Jason. That is not a problem. It is just hard enough to try to decide how and when to add to your family without adding guilt and grief on top of it all.

The end of all my pregnancies have always been like a grief period for me. I mourn that soon I will not be able to completely devote myself to my current children. I remember crying and holding Charlie right before Max was born, thinking how I wasn't going to just be able to hold him and rock him and love him. I would have to split myself between the two. I even felt that way at the end of the pregnancy with Charlie. I would no longer just be a devoted wife, I would be a mother. Each time I wonder how I am going to be able to spread myself enough to love and care for each person in my family. And with every addition to our family God reminds me that Love multiplies and covers abundantly. (although time doesn't seem to keep up!)

With Adelle this emotion is multiplied by one thousand, and fear lurks closely behind. A new addition to our family feels like it will suck dry my ability to love and grieve for my precious girl. How can she compete with a living, breathing child who cries and needs to be fed and held? My children on this earth will need immediate attention. But sweet Adelle, she has no presence here. My time to journal to her, hold her blanket, look at her pictures, visit her grave....I fear they will all be pushed to the back burner. That the physical needs of this world will slowly (or quickly) push her from our minds and schedule.

And everything in me screams that she deserves so much more than that! I cannot love her like I do my other children. I cannot comfort her, rock her to sleep, tell her I love her. The only things I have to remind me of her, and show the world and her and myself how much I love her are things like wearing her necklace, looking at her pictures, bringing flowers to her grave! It is all I have! I know many people think it silly to visit a grave, decorate it, and take the boys. Or to hang her pictures in my house, bring up her name every day to Charlie and Max, give presents in her name, or buy her an ornament. But in my mind, it feels like this isn't enough. I want to do everything I can to show her how much I love her. To remind our family and the world that she is important, that she lived, that she is missed.

So how do I purposefully bring another child into our family? One that will monopolize so much time? Time that feels like it will take away my time with Adelle? What does she deserve? Does waiting, and devoting a certain amount of time just to her, the youngest and first girl, mean I love her more? Does she deserve a certain length of mourning? Does longer, and more intense mourning mean deeper love?

I know in my head what everyone reminds me of. She will always be a member of our family, she will always be in our hearts. No child will ever replace her. That grief will run its course in our lives no matter the number or ages of other children present in the family. That we just have to do what is best for us, that there is no real answer. There is no right or wrong as to how long you wait before you conceive again after the death of a child. That grief will gradually loosen its hold on us, and we will find ourselves needing to go to the grave less, and touch her things less, and put that fluffy pink blanket away. And that this change in grief and the time it demands is a good thing.

But what does my heart say? I hardly know.

Christmas Jammies 2009

Chasing After Christmas

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and other than a simple Christmas Eve service, we have no plans. That seems to sum up our Holiday Spirit this year.

I know I have said it before, but Christmas just feels so off this year. Jason and I went to one Christmas concert, and other than that, we just haven't participated in much.

We talked about it last night, and neither of us feel overly excited about Christmas at all. And sometimes, it makes me feel so guilty. We haven't really talked about Christmas much with the boys even. A sweet friend asked Charlie today if he was ready to open his Christmas presents in two days, and Charlie just looked at him like he had no idea what he was talking about. This child is 3 years old! How horrible. He doesn't even know it is Christmas in 2 days! It is like I just can't sum up the energy to do all the "stuff" that comes with Christmas.

Call me Mrs. Grinch, but I don't tend to over due Christmas in good years either (or birthdays or any other milestone for that matter.) Don't get me wrong, we love the Christmas music, the nativities, the Christmas tree, traditions, food, and family just like anyone else, but I am beginning to realize that we are not like most people. It seems that so many people "event" Christmas to death. Weeks of concerts, parties, trips to the mall, visits with Santa, kids craft fairs, viewing lights, movies, theme parks, plays, and the list goes on and on. Is there no value anymore of staying home and just being together as a family? Must we go "do" in order to celebrate and make memories?

Other than the fact that EVERY Christmas event seems to cost gobs of money, it seems like filling up the schedule with more and more places to go to celebrate the season, actually detracts from it.

I am an avid blog reader. In fact, it has kind of become an addiction. I go to the sites of friends of mine, and then hop around looking at their friends blogs, and their friends blogs, until I hardly know where I started from. It is so fun to just step into someones life for a moment and see the working of God in so many places.

But I have learned one thing about blog hoping that I don't really like. It often leaves me feeling guilty or jealous, especially at Christmas. It is one danger of the blog world I think. We all have our chance to "showcase" our family. We post all the wonderful places we take our kids, how many parties they participate in, how many wonderful events we got to attend. And then we post the perfect smiling picture of how happy we are.

Trust me, I take responsibility for my own feelings of guilt and jealousy. It is no one's fault but my own to envy the seemingly perfect life of this complete stranger, or feel guilty that maybe my kids are missing out because we participated weeks of Christmas celebrations like this person.

But I feel so often that I am carried away by this silent under current of "mom competitiveness" in this blog world. It is like we all are quietly saying "Look what my kids did, or look how many things I do for my children. Aren't I the best Mom?"

Well, this Christmas, I have really been struggling with that. I already feel like my grief is strangling the life out of my family, and that my anger or apathy is the cause for many "bumps" we are running into with the kids. How many times have a cried to Jason that I feel I have "broken the kids" only to add the guilt of passing over Christmas with energy of a slug?

But I take comfort in the advice of a dear friend, one whose daughter even now is playing with Adelle, that Christmas is merely coming into focus for us. This year may seem drab, uneventful, and full of sorrow, but perhaps we are being steered towards something greater. A Christmas with true meaning and tradition. A Christmas stripped of hurry, of stress, of the need to parade my kids to every Christmas event possible and then catalogue it for the world to notice how wonderful a mom I am.

Isn't that the point? Shouldn't every thing we do for our children point in the same eternal direction? Perhaps I will never win the 'Mom of the Year' award. My kids don't even realize that they are getting presents in a couple of days and haven't gone to one single Christmas party this year. I have no pictures to post or fun events to blog about. Christmas will be small, and we will be thinking of one small little girl we wish so badly could be present.

But perhaps, just maybe, we will be reminded that every Christmas ought to be about a baby. Not just our little one, but the One that all the hype is about. What a great gift then, Adelle will have given us.

Gone From My Sight

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side say: "There, she is gone!"

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment, when someone at my side says, "There, she is gone," there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:

"Here she comes!"

...And that is dying.

-Henry Van Dyke

A Wonderfully, Wiggly Night

Charlie had his first "performance" at church on Wed. night. The 3 and 4 year olds from our Mothers Day Out program sang (as well as the youth and children's choirs). It was entertaining to say the least! It was the most "wiggly" 1 hour church service I have ever witnessed!

Charlie was so excited he talked about it for a week. He told me every "instruction" he got about the songs. Apparently "Red Nose Reindeer" (as he called it) was supposed to be loud, and "Silent Night" (as he whispered) was supposed to be a lullaby. Knowing Charlie, I asked him over and over if he was going to sing, and he would always yell "Yes!"

Unfortunetly, our little shy child stood, grinned, stared into space, stuck his hands in his mouth, and managed to sing two words, "Holy" and "Calm."

We are hoping these are the words God was speaking to Him! Haha! He was so cute. I took a long video, and lots of pictures. Maybe next year he will be just as cute...and sing!

Our Angel

This year we decided we wanted to sponsor an Angel from The Salvation Army's Angel Tree. We really wanted to find an infant girl, in memory of Adelle. Well, after one week of looking (even searching their website), we decided we had waited to late. All the young kids get chosen first (I guess). I was very disappointed.


Then, on the day of Adelle's 2 month birthday, we went to Northpark Mall to let the kids see the trains...and I saw an Angel Tree center. I browsed quickly, doubting I would find any girl under 6 years old. Then I saw it! Daniela, 2 months old. I was so excited! She was perfect. I quickly plucked off her name from the tree, and talked to the volunteer.


The next day, Jason and I went shopping for this sweet girl. We had so much fun! If you have lost a child, I HIGHLY recommend doing this! Part of the pain of losing a child, is walking around the stores and seeing all the things you would love to buy. This year, I kept seeing "My First Christmas" dresses, little tiny red velvet Christmas dresses, or soft pink outfits everywhere. And I wished so much to buy one for Adelle.


And this was my chance! I got to shop through beautiful dresses, toys, blankets, pink shoes, and Christmas dresses. And it was like balm on my soul! Everything I bought for little Daniela, were things I would have loved to buy for Adelle. And it felt good to give them to such a deserving child. Even buying diapers felt wonderful. It all just seemed right. Like for just a minute, the world corrected this huge mistake, and I was just out on a Sunday shopping for my little girl.


I will do this again every year. And each year, I hope (and pray) to find a little girl the same age as Adelle. And there, in that couple of hours of shopping, the grief in my heart can let go, and I can picture a girl, 2 months old, 14 months old, 2 years old, 3 years old getting to open what she has always wanted, and what I have always dreamed of buying.


Here are some of the fun things we were able to get for precious Daniela.

And here are the beautiful dresses we bought. Trust me, Jason had to reign me in, lest I buy 20 more...

I am so thankful that a woman, somewhere in Dallas, let me borrow her daughter for the day! Merry Christmas to Daniela and her mommy!

Two Months

Sweet Baby Girl,

Can it really have been two months since you were born? It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet it feels like yesterday. I have spent time today, just walking myself through our memories together. Do you remember that you held Daddy's hand almost immediately? It is like you came out, and were grasping as hard and fast to us, as we did to you. I can still feel that little grip. It was so tight and strong. You seemed so fragile, until you reached for us. It was the first glimpse we saw of how strong your spirit really was. You, this small helpless babe, reached out for us. It is like you knew time was short, and so you were going to hold on as tightly to us as possible.

Actually, that grip communicated so much. It told me that you knew me, and recognized my voice. It told me that you, just like us, wished you could have stayed. It was you participating with us, reaching for us, desiring us. It showed your disregard for what science had told us...you could feel and move and hear. And you definitely could love.

I can still feel your little fingers, Adelle. I treasure the memory. I hope and pray I never forget it.

Thank you, little one, for reaching for me. For coming to me. For forever being my little girl.

Happy two month birthday, Adelle. We love you, and think of you often.

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree

How lovely are your branches!

We went to put up Adelle's Christmas tree today...and we were pleasantly surprised to see Adelle's gravestone is in! It looks so good, especially with her new Christmas decorations and little tree.

As you can see we had LOTS of good helpers! They were so excited to decorate the Christmas Tree for Baby Adelle. You can see we kind of went overboard on the decorations, but the boys each wanted to put "their own" decoration on the grave. Charlie picked out the poinsettias, and Max picked out the little wreath. We were quite happy with how it turned out!

Merry Christmas, Adelle! Hope you like your Christmas Tree!

Christmas Blahs

Everyone says the first Christmas is hard. So I have been expecting that I would be a mess. People talk of not wanting to put up trees, go to parties, buy presents, sing Christmas carols, or participate in any "festive" activities. They speak of horrible, painful breakdowns and re-emergence of pain and sorrow.

So I have been waiting for this...and it hasn't come. I am not sure that it won't, but I find myself in a very different place. Instead of feeling deep, intensive pain, I feel...nothing.

I am tolerating all the Christmas traditions and festivities just fine. They don't make me overly sad, but they don't make me overly glad either. I really feel very little.

In fact, this feels just like any other time of the year. The tree is up, and the boys listen to Christmas carols...we even sing them at church. But it is like I don't even hear them. I notice the tree in our living room, but I don't really think much of it.

It just doesn't feel like Christmas. My shopping is done...I did it all online this year. I have very few parties or Christmas events to go to, no major plans. But even at the things we do go to, I don't really engage in them. It just feels like dinner with friends. I don't really notice the holiday music or Christmas themed decorations.

I don't really feel the joy or pleasure I have this time of year. Songs that used to touch me, no longer do. The special memories or traditions that warm my heart feel empty.

I go through the motions, especially for my kids. But honestly, it just doesn't feel like Christmas. Our house is decorated, lights up, Christmas movies on. And I am not sad or distressed. Not overly emotional or teary. I am just OK. Not great, not horrible.

Just, sort of...nothing. It is just so surreal. My mind knows it is Christmas, but it just doesn't really register. It is like I see the world participating in this big event, and I am just outside of it, watching. And this doesn't make me sad or happy. I just don't feel much of anything at all.

Inspirational Quotes and Scriptures

I have been given many things over the past month to encourage me and support me. Here are some quotes and poems that many wonderful women have blessed me with. I hope they bless you as well.

"An event has happened, upon which it is difficult to speak, and impossible to remain silent."

Edmund Burke

"The mention of my child’s name may bring tears to my eyes, but it never fails to bring music to my ears. If you really are my friend, let me hear the beautiful music of my child’s name. It soothes my broken heart, and sings to my soul."- Author Unknown

"When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘No answer.’ It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but in waiving the question. Like, ‘Peace, Child; you don’t understand.’" ~C.S. Lewis

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?"-Kahlil Gibran

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power...they are messengers of unspeakable love." Washington Irving

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer."-Romans 12:12

"Motherhood is a state of both the mind and the heart, a sacred place that is yours no matter the distance between you and your child. Not even Death can take it away." Joanne Cacciatore

"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, maker of all things."-Ecclesiastes 11:5

"...but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."-Romans 5:3-4

"I will hide beneath the shadow of your wings until the storm is past." Psalm 57:1 LB


Thank you so much for all your love and support! To those "real" friends, who take me to lunch and share your stories with me, to those who share the "blogging world" with me. Your encouragement and love have been huge for me on this journey.

Adelle's Christmas Traditions

Kelly at The Beauty of Sufficient Grace is hosting a Christmas edition of "Walking with You", encouraging us to share how we remember our lost loved ones at Christmas time. If you click here, you can read some really special traditions that other people are doing to remember their loved ones this time of year.

This has been a common subject around our house this year. How do we include Adelle in our Christmas traditions, since she is definitely still part of the family (and always will be), and help the boys remember her and love her? Plus, how can we honor her life and remember our love for her?

Well, being it is the first Christmas we have without her and the first Christmas we would have had her at home, we are borrowing many ideas from those around us who we know are walking a similar path. So far, here is what we are going to do.

When we were out with the boys at Michael's yesterday, we bought a small Christmas tree, mini red bows, and a gold star. And very soon, maybe even this weekend, we are going to take it to the cemetery and set it up at her grave. And we will let the boys have fun decorating it with us. This allows us to include her in the decorations and tree trimming, and gets the boys involved as well. Charlie has been carrying the tree around all week saying "this is Baby Adelle's special Christmas tree!" :o)

One of our family traditions we have done for years is to buy our children one ornament a year and put it in their stocking. Then they get to open it on Christmas morning and put it on the tree. Usually, we try really hard to find an ornament that represents a special achievement, memory, or life stage for that child for that year, and then we write their name and year on the back. Let me give you an example. Charlie has a tractor ornament (that looks JUST like Daddy's) from last year because the entire year he begged Daddy to ride on his lap to mow the lawn, and would ask Daddy to mow every day (despite the fact they mowed the day before!). So this is a chance for us to remember that stage and love of Charlie's every time we hang it on the tree.

So this year we are searching for the perfect ornament for Adelle. Something to help us remember this year, the year of her birth and death, and the only year in which we held her. We have found a couple of options, but are waiting for the perfect ornament to get for her. And we would like to get her an ornament every year, just like the other kids, so as we decorate our tree we can remember our sweet, little Adelle Marie. I am not sure if we will theme her ornament collection in any way (babies, angels, etc.), but will do the same thing we do with our boys. Buy the ornament that reminds us, that year, of Adelle.

We also got her a stocking this year. It hangs in the center of our crew, and is velvet and white. It reminds me how she will always be pure and innocent. And every year, we will put her ornament inside it, and let the boys open it and hang it on our tree.

Every year we also buy matching Christmas PJ's for the kids and take their picture in them in front of the Christmas tree. I know we can't do that for Adelle every year, but being the "plan ahead" Mommy that I am (or have been, I am NOT that Mommy right now...), I bought everyone's last year at the after Christmas sale, including a small 0-3 size. So, when my boys sit down to pose in front of the tree, I will fold those precious, tiny, matching jammies next to her brothers and include her in the picture too.

So far, these are the things we have decided on to love, cherish, and remember our darling girl every Christmas. But we have many other ideas, thanks to the huge support system of "Baby Loss" families we have found this year.

Here are some things we are thinking about doing:

*Buying a gift for Adelle, based on the age she would be that year, and donating it to one of the many toy drives or Angel Tree projects this time of year.

*Filling a shoe box for Operation Christmas Child in honor of her. And trying to pick out a little girl who would be her age.

*Choosing a "compassion child," preferably a girl, to sponsor for the year. That way we can give life to a little girl, when we felt so helpless as to preserve the life of our own little girl.

*Donating to one of our favorite Charities in her name, and in the amount we would have spent for her for Christmas that year. Some of our favorites are: Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, or St. Jude's, or The local Pregnancy Resource Center, Community Hospice of Dallas (the nurses and organization that allowed us to take her home until her death), or one of the many other Infant Bereavement Ministries.

*One family asked all her family and friends that had supported them all year to write a letter about what they remember from the life of their child. And they put these letters in his stocking. Then on Christmas day, while the other kids napped, she and her husband were able to read them together, and know how loved their son was. I love this idea, but am still trying to figure out if we will do it this year, how, and what we would ask people to write. (Let me know if you have a spin on this that would be an encouragement to us this year.)


So what Christmas traditions do you do for your family every year? We would love to hear how you make memories at this special time of year to remember the Birth of the most important baby of ALL time. Or if you have ideas for us, on how you honor your loved ones (baby or not) we would love to have more creative and special ideas.