Tears and Guilt

 Morris,

It's hard to believe it's been almost two years since I've written you.  It's harder to believe that it's been almost seven years since I last held you.  Time has softened the pain, but this time of year is always so difficult for me.

The few days before your stillbirth are burned into my memory.  I remember so many details about what we did in those days, but mostly I recall the heavy anxiety and sense of doom that I just couldn't shake. When February hits each year, I find myself stuck dwelling on these details and reliving the trauma of it all. I google "velamentous cord insertion" (the only answer we have for why you aren't here), hoping to find that there has been some new research in the past year that better explains why it happened and why we didn't know. I repeat frequently to myself, "It wouldn't have made a difference," which is something my midwife Mary told me in the days after your stillbirth when I was consumed by guilt that I had ignored my anxiety that something was wrong and waited too long to come in.  

It's also around this time of year that I begin to feel guilt that I haven't done enough to ensure your legacy. Those first few years, we sponsored Operation Over the Rainbow to collect bags for foster children in your memory, and we found lots of meaningful ways to fill our time and remember you.  I've watched as women I've come to know have founded non-profits and dedicated their lives to their children's legacy, and I'm in awe and appreciation of their dedication.  Yet, I don't feel that same calling. I am at peace with that decision most of the year, but around your birthday there is always guilt. Most of the time though, I believe that my calling in all of this is just to sit others in their pain after a similar loss and to help family and friends when they don't know how to best support their loved ones through the journey. 

As I write this, it's not without awareness that another family has their own "February" to live through. This weekend, a young girl in our community lost her life in a tragic situation. I learned this morning that it was the daughter of a high school friend, though we lost touch after high school. I thought back to those high school days this morning, thinking how invincible we were back then and so full of hope for the lives ahead of us. Never in a million years would we have guessed the tragedies that we would face. Our biggest worry was Friday night's football game or the upcoming cheerleading competition. This friend was the flyer, the girl we were always tossing high into the air.  I was always amazed at her fearlessness and her confidence that we would catch her. I pray that in the midst of her pain and heartbreak right now, she will trust God to catch her.  

I love you.  I miss you.

Mom

Happy 5th Birthday, Morris!

Morris,

Oh, how I wish you were here to celebrate with us on your 5th Birthday!  I feel so many, many emotions on the days leading up to today each year.  Today, I force myself to put all those emotions aside and focus not on the sadness, but on the beauty of you and of God's promises to us.

I was looking at a picture album the other day from your birthday.  In the pictures, we are all smiling as we hold you.  My one request to everyone that entered the room that day was that they try to be happy.  I didn't want to look back on the one and only day that I spent with you and feel nothing but the sadness and heaviness of the day.  I'll be honest with you, though...This year was the first year that I looked at those pictures, and for a moment, all I felt was angry.  I stared at each of our faces, wet with tears but holding a plastered smile. I felt like a such fraud for convincing myself that there was anything happy about your birthday; I felt silly for believing that there was anything that could overshadow the sadness we felt.

I sat with those emotions for a few minutes.  And then, I repeated a Bible verse in my head for the billionth time since you were born:

"When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy."  Psalm 94:19

This is the verse God brought to me the very morning that we found out you were gone...in fact, just an hour or so before that fateful ultrasound.  He brought it to me again the next day as we drove to the hospital to deliver you.  I love this verse that I call "Morris' verse" because it reminds me that there is joy to be found in everything that God touches.  I carried you for 8 months.  I heard your heartbeat.  I felt your kicks.  I prayed for you and with you.  I sang to you.  And on this day, five years ago, I held you in my arms, caressed a face that looked just like your Daddy's face, and kissed you sweetly on top the head.  I left that hospital a different person because of you. I became a different mother because of you.  You are my miracle. There is so much joy to be found in our story.

I am forever grateful for the precious few Morris moments I was granted here on earth, and I am overwhelmed with appreciation for the lifetime I'll get to spend with you one day.

Happy, happy birthday my sweet boy!!

Love,

Mommy

"For I know the plans.."

My sweet Baylor and Griffin,

I've only used this blog once before to write to you instead of your brother.  It was just before your first birthday when I wanted to capture how I was feeling about your big milestone.  This morning, thoughts about this week have been swirling around in my head, and I wanted to write them down and share them with you.

Being a parent is hard.  Being a parent after experiencing the loss of a child is a different kind of hard. Every loss parent's story is different, and I can't pretend to understand how the type of loss, timing of loss, or other circumstances surrounding the loss impact one's journey and experience through raising other children.  I know what it feels to lose your firstborn to stillbirth, and I know that experience has profoundly impacted the way I parent you.  I hope that the impact has generally been for the good, although I worry that the constant anxiety I feel around your safety and well-being may one day negatively impact you.

You may remember the special Bible verse that God gave us at the time of your brother's stillbirth.  It was a bible verse tucked into a prayer book that I had read the day before we delivered Morris, and it brought me peace as we said our goodbyes.  For that reason, we call Psalm 94:19 "Morris' verse":

"When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul."

The truth is, while the story of that verse and its meaning has brought me comfort over the years, it has also oddly brought me anxiety.  I began to see songs, verses, and devotionals that popped up about hard times or pain as a foreshadowing of something to come in our life.  There have been many days when I've opened up my inbox to an email devotional with a triggering title like, "Why is this happening to me, God?" and immediately felt my heartbeat begin to rise and anxiety forming in the pit of my stomach.  I've quickly deleted these emails without reading and tried to forget them.  I've turned the radio station when certain songs talking about trails or tribulations began to play.

Earlier this week, Baylor suffered an unexplained high fever that came on in the midst of a round of antibiotics. The doctor chalked it up to a virus picked up on top of an ear infection, and she told us to monitor it and come back if it didn't go away.  Later that day, I opened my email to a devotional titled, "Even If", which I knew would be about trusting God in hard times.  I instantly began to worry it was a sign.  What if the doctor was wrong and Baylor was facing an illness much more serious than a common virus?  I wanted to believe the doctor was right, but for the next 2 days, I was Dr. Google and worried sick.

Baylor has now been fever free for over 24 hours and appears to be on the mend.  As I've thought about my immense fear and anxiety, something important occurred to me.  I'm not really sure why it hasn't before.

God gave us His Word as a gift of love and peace.  He would never intend it to cause pain or anxiety.  I don't know exactly how many verses in the Bible address anxiety and fear, but a quick Google search points to at least 50 verses that instruct us to not be fearful and tell us that God is the answer to the anxiety we feel.

God doesn't intend His Word to cause anxiety, but the Devil has different plans.  The Devil attempted to use God's word to tempt Jesus in the Wilderness (Matthew 4). He still uses it today to tempt us, to make us feel unworthy, and to make us fearful. As someone else on the internet eloquently put it in an article I read, "History is strewn with people who have twisted the Scriptures to their own destruction." 2 Peter 3:16 warns us against being fooled.

I share this with you today because I don't want you to live a life of fear and anxiety.  I am not the perfect example of the life you should lead, and this is an area where I struggle even more than most. But I want you to live in the truth that God created you to live a life that is without fear..a life that is full of peace. I want you to stand strong on the promises He's made you.  "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."  Bad things will certainly happen as we go through life together, but your Daddy and I are proof that God will get us through them.

Love,

Mommy

Home

Morris,

A whole season has passed since the last time I wrote you.  We enjoyed a beautiful, but wet summer.  Your brother and sister have grown tremendously in the last several months.  They are capable of full conversations now, and their personalities are really beginning to come through. Griffin loves cars and "Papaw's trucks", and he's full of adventure and always on the go.  Baylor gravitates towards caring for her babies and pets, and she is fiercely independent.  They are the best of friends.

We are moving to a new house next month.  Daddy and I decided a few months ago that we were ready for more space and a yard where Baylor, Griffin and Izzy could play and run.  Our house sold very quickly, and although I panicked about it, we found a beautiful home that we know will be perfect for us. In the midst of packing up this house and planning for the new house, you are heavily on my mind. 

We really haven't announced that we've bought a new house to many people.  I guess I haven't wanted to jinx it since we are still waiting on home inspections and other items to wrap up.  The topic came up with a fellow loss mom through Facebook chat one night several weeks ago though.  I had shared the real estate posting of our house earlier that night.  This friend messaged me, laughing about how she got chocked up seeing my post and how she was feeling emotional about a house that she had no connection to at all thinking about the experiences we've had and the memories we've made here. She reminisced about her experience of finding a new home for her growing family years ago and the bittersweetness of it after loss.

I've known she was right about the bittersweetness.  Leaving this home means means leaving the home where I carried you for 8 months, and it means leaving the home where I have grieved you for three and a half years.

This morning was the first time I realized though what I'm moving on to...a home that will never physically house you.  In the new house, there is a bedroom for Mommy and Daddy, one for Baylor and one for Griffin.  In buying what we hope is our forever home, we planned for the size our family is today, not the size it should be.  It's impossible to not shed tears over a realization like that one.

And yet, you are forever part of our family, which means you will forever be part of our home no matter where that home is.  Our memories from this house will come along with us to the next house, as will treasured items and trinkets and pictures.  I know that you will always find a way to be part of the love and laughter that fills our earthly home, and you'll be our connection to the home that is being built for us in Heaven.

Home is where your heart is, and part of my heart is always with you.

Love,

Mommy

Legacy

Sweet Baby,

It's been a long time since I've written you. It's harder now than it used to be - I rarely have time to myself, and when I do, I tend to enjoy a cup of coffee and relax.

Our Finch family is back!  We spotted them the first time in Spring of 2015, just a few months after you were gone, when Momma Finch built a nest in your special Morris wreath on our front door.  A few weeks later, we celebrated when five sweet baby birds hatched.  I was sad that we had to throw away your wreath (the baby birds had distroyed it), but I was happy knowing that Momma Finch had gotten her family.  Since Finches tend to return to the same spot each year, we removed the wreath from our front door last Spring.  But I forgot this year, and to my surprise, I opened the door the other night and Momma Finch flew out.  She has 4 little eggs snuggled safely in her nest this year.

It seems silly to tell you that a rush of emotion hit me when I realized she had rebuilt her nest in our wreath.  It's weird how something like that just takes you back to what you were feeling at some long ago time. This Finch family represented so much hope for me in 2015, and I felt so grateful to watch them experience a second chance at happiness.  They gave me hope that one day we might see the joy restored to our own family, and by the grace of God, we did.

Barbara Bush, former First Lady, passed away last week. She was an amazing lady, one who understood the depths of grief that come from losing a piece of yourself.  She lost her daughter Robin, just three years old, to leukemia in 1953.  Barbara talked about Robin often over the years.  Grami shared this quote from her with me:

"The death of a child is so painful, both emotionally and spiritually, that I truly wondered if my own heart and spirit would ever heal...I soon learned that I could help myself best by helping others...it wasn't until Robin died that I truly threw myself into volunteer work.  That precious little girl left our family a great legacy: I know George and I care more for every living person because of her.  We learned firsthand the importance of reaching out to help because others had reached out to us during that critical time."

Barbara Bush was a beatiful and inspiring woman.

Last week, Daddy and I took Baylor & Griffin on an early morning walk in the neighborhood then decided that we should go get breakfast.  We went to a small diner down the street that makes everything homemade and only accepts cash (pretty uncommon in today's world).  As we walked towards an empty booth, someone I knew caught my eye. She was a mother in the Pregnancy Centering Group I participated in when I was pregnant with you.  Her daughter, born not long after you, was sitting beside her.  We exchanged hello's, and as we sat down at the booth next to them, Daddy asked me how I knew her.  Suddenly, my eyes filled with tears and I couldn't get the words out.  In that moment, all I could think was that you should be in the booth with us.  Our Saturday morning breakfast should have come with a fifth placesetting.

This happened before Barbara Bush passed away, but hearing of her death has made me reflect more.  The former First Lady carried her grief for 65 years.  Sixty-five years that her daughter Robin wasn't there to blow out her birthday candles.  Sixty-five Christmases without gifts under the tree for Robin.  Sixty-five years spent with a deep longing and wondering of what would have been...and thousands of breakfasts with a missing placesetting. The thought of living with grief that deep for that long is soul-crushing.  Yet, I look at your sweet brother and sister, and I hope that I am lucky enough to do the same. Even more, I hope that we leave a legacy for you through helping others in the same way that Barbara Bush left one for Robin.

Today Grami and I will be walking in your memory at the Sadie Rose 5k.  As you watch from above, I hope you know how much you are loved and missed.  I think Barbara said it best when she said, "Robin to me is a joy. She's like an angel to me; she's not a sadness or a sorrow." I feel the same way about you, sweet Morris.

Love,

Mommy

Rest in Peace, Barbara Bush. I am crying tears of joy for your sweet, longawaited reunion with Robin.

Missing You at Christmas

Sweet Boy,

It's Christmas Eve, which means in 24 hours, your brother and sister will experience their 2nd Christmas.  They don't understand Christmas anymore than they did last year, but they do understand toys and playing with family members, so I have no doubt that this year's Christmas will be even better than last year's.  It's such a bittersweet time of year though for me.  As much fun as we'll have spending the day with family, you will always be missing. It's the babies' 2nd Christmas, but this year also marks our 3rd Christmas without you.

There's are special gifts under the tree for Baylor & Griffin from you.  They are these sweet Precious Moment's figurines.  One is an angel pushing a tiny baby girl in a pink baby stroller.  The other is an angel helping a baby boy take his first steps. I found them on sale yesterday in a local shop.  I had stopped there on a whim because I had some time to kill before meeting someone and thought of a last minute gift I could look for there.  I had chosen and paid for the gift when I noticed these on my way out the exit. I only stopped to take a look because Aunt Becca used to be a collector.  The tears stung my eyes as soon as I saw them.  There was only one of each, and I  know they were put there just for me.  I hope that these gifts mean as much to the twins one day as they mean to me.

Last night after I got home, we fed the babies dinner and gave them a bath.  I got Baylor out of the bathtub to get ready for bed while your Daddy finished bathing Griffin. I sat her down on the changing table and was putting on her PJ's when she pointed to the shadow box that hangs above the changing table.  It's filled with the hat & bib that matched the outfit you wore after birth, as well as your footprints, a picture of your tiny hand, and your hospital bracelet. I asked her, "Oh, are you looking at brother's things?" She immediately started looking around the room frantically, and it dawned on me that she was looking for Griffin because he's the only brother she knows. Tears fell for a second time in just a few hours.

One day, she'll know about you even though she won't know you until this lifetime is over.  Grief is hard and it's a journey that never ends.  This morning, as I began typing you this letter, I realized that I forgot to do our annual Toys for Tots donation in your memory. The deadline has way passed, and it's Christmas Eve, so I don't know if I'll be able to do something in it's place. The tears are falling once again, as I feel like I've forgotten you at Christmas even though you've been on my mind so much. A wise friend just reminded me that healing sometimes involves forgetting.  I know she's right, but it's still hard.  I don't want to forget, but I also don't want to stop living.  There is no perfect balance...no guide to follow. We just do the best we can.

Whether I am able to buy toys in your memory or not, you'll be in my heart this Christmas.  I love you and I miss you, baby boy.  Merry Christmas!

Love,

Mommy

Living a life of Love

Sweet Morris,

This morning, I made a cup of coffee and sat down for a few minutes while everyone was asleep.  I opened Facebook to find that a friend had recently welcomed another child into her home.  This friend now has 8 little ones to take care of, including some that require special love and care, and she provides it all with more grace and smiles than many moms of one or two can muster.

It got me thinking about how many amazing people you've brought into my life.  Most are people with whom I would have probably never crossed paths.  They are some of the most selfless, inspirational, genuine people I've ever met, and I feel blessed to know them. Some of these people are part of the loss momma club.  It's a odd club...one with members who don't want you to join, but who rush to greet you with open arms when you do.

I started a new devotional this morning - it's the one we were given in the baby dedication class I wrote you about a few weeks ago.  This morning's devotion seemed like it was written about many of these people I've met or gotten to know better since you.  Part of it read:

"When God talks about love, He isn't talking about the ooey-gooey feelings we have somewhere in our hearts. He's talking about a commitment. He's talking about a choice. He's talking about putting someone else ahead of ourselves. Love can be defined as "compassionately and righteously pursing the well-being of another." Love is an action, not an emotion. And it's a responsibility that God has commanded us to live out." Kingdom Family Devotional, Tony Evans & Johnathan Evans

These friends I've made along this journey, they embody this.  They've taken all the pain that God has put in their path, and they have put it into doing things for others. Some in a more traditional way of showing compassion, giving support, and lending a helping hand.  Others in less traditional ways that maybe they don't even recognize.  But each one of them is living out a life of love.

I can't reflect on the character of these women without reflecting on my own. I wonder - am I living a life that you would be proud of?  Am I doing enough? These are questions that most all of us ask ourselves at times.  I can point to a few areas where I think I'm doing well, and probably a whole bunch more where I'm not.  I've decided that my new year's resolution won't be focused on something I can do for myself, like lose weight or get more sleep, but instead will be focused on an area where I can show more love.

One thing that I am proud of is Operation Over the Rainbow and the love it provides to children in our community.  This year will be our 3rd annual Operation Over the Rainbow, and we'll wrap it up in February, the month in which you would have turned 3 this year.  In the past 2 years, we've collected nearly 300 Journey Bags, book bags filled with personal care items that are given to children when they enter foster care.  It is one small way that your legacy lives on and for that I am grateful.

We had our first snow of the year this weekend.  As I looked out the window at everything pure and white, I thought of you.  I know your holiday season is filled with more glory, love and peace than we could imagine.  Merry Christmas, Morris.

Love,

Mommy

Thank you to all the women with broken hearts who have showed me such love and compassion over the last 3 years!  I'm blessed to know you.