Reflections of a 31-year-old

Over thirty-one years have gone by since I was born into the world. Wow. Am I the only one who has taken a long time to adjust to entering their fourth (yikes) decade of life? I think it feels like such a huge thing because as long as you're still in you're 20s you are considered young. For example, last year I was at a restaurant where the only way to order was electronically. I was with two friends who are slightly older than I am and there was a man maybe in his 70s who was struggling with ordering, so we helped him out. Afterwards he thanked us and mentioned needing someone "under 30" to help, referring to the three of us. We shocked him by letting him know we had all passed that mark. I guess it's mostly an arbitrary cultural thing that makes turning 30 such a big milestone but I have to admit that I have experienced more aging and changes than ever before since my birthday last year. Here are some things I've learned, hard things and happy things:

Hard: My body is slowing down. I can no longer eat whatever I want and stay the size I want. The "petit allegro" girl from ballet class can't jump as fast or be as light on her feet. The girl who used to quickly chaine across the floor with no problem may need to slow down or only go halfway across so the room doesn't completely spin out of control. I'm seeing the effects of age and grief. My hair is much thinner, and the top of my head is covered in white hairs. 

Happy: I don't care as much if I'm not great at things! I tried running for the first time ever this year and want to continue. I may not run multiple miles, at least not at an impressive speed, but I've learned to do something new and I'm so glad I can run a few minutes without feeling like I'm going to pass out. I also am okay with not being the best dancer and with trying new things in front of people. I want to show that you're never too old to challenge yourself and anybody can set a goal and achieve it. The past year I danced my first season with a company, ran my first mile race, tried rock climbing and ninja obstacles for the first time, and many other things I can't remember at the moment (I'm not as young as I used to be after all). 

It is much easier to admit my weaknesses because they are much harder to hide. Not only the physical weaknesses but the character flaws and emotional and mental breakdowns as well. I think because of all the stress brought on by adult life, especially with a spouse and children and work and volunteer responsibilities and friends, it is not as easy to paste on a smile all the time and appear to keep it together. Sometimes things fall apart, and you just have to laugh about it (eventually). Trying new things has given me many opportunities to laugh at myself, like when I'm one of the last ones to finish running a mile or when my oldest teaches me how to throw a football or catch a baseball. Other things take time to laugh at, like realizing I can't do everything on my own or that I'm not who I used to be. Thankfully I have someone who knows me deeply and knows how I'm going to change before it happens. He remains the same and loves me through all my triumphs and failings. 

(P.S. Hope this encourages whoever is reading! Please see below for a song that relates to this theme.)

                                         

"Christ the Sure and Steady Anchor" by Matt Papa and Matt Boswell

Christ the sure and steady Anchor
In the fury of the storm
When the winds of doubt blow through me
And my sails have all been torn
In the suffering, in the sorrow
When my sinking hopes are few
I will hold fast to the Anchor
It shall never be removed

Christ the sure and steady Anchor
While the tempest rages on
When temptation claims the battle
And it seems the night has won
Deeper still then goes the Anchor
Though I justly stand accused
I will hold fast to the Anchor
It shall never be removed

Christ the sure and steady Anchor
Through the floods of unbelief
Hopeless somehow, O my soul, now
Lift your eyes to Calvary
This my ballast of assurance
See His love forever proved
I will hold fast to the Anchor
It shall never be removed

Christ the sure and steady Anchor
As we face the wave of death
When these trials give way to glory
As we draw our final breath
We will cross that great horizon
Clouds behind and life secure
And the calm will be the better
For the storms that we endure
Christ the sure of our salvation
Ever faithful, ever true
We will hold fast to the Anchor
It shall never be removed

Portrait of a Bereaved Mother

I wrote this in my journal in May 2021 after watching "Little Women" (PBS version) and hearing Marmee describe her grief after Beth died. I was inspired to write about my own experience with losing a child, although much different than Marmee's. I trust that it will encourage others who may know a similar pain.

The death of a child kills something in the mother. A part of her dies with her child. All the love which went to that child implodes and becomes a sort of black hole which tries to suck the life out of everything that should bring joy. It's as if her purpose is gone. It doesn't matter that she has a husband and other children because all the love that was going to the child who died has no home and eats away at her. It makes her heart a dark and bitter place that is so often angry over the most trivial things. The smallest thing could go wrong and she reacts like it's the end of the world, because the world as she knew it has ended. She knows now she will never feel in control again. At times that seems exciting but at others it is terrifying and exhausting. When her world is spinning out of control she needs something, someone to hold on to...or even better, someone to hold onto her. 

She knows who that is, she always has. 

Her Maker, Redeemer, Lord, Savior, Comforter, Helper, and the Lifter of her head.

*This was written in a low moment and I have experienced much healing since then. I know at times I can still get down to this place and in those moments it helps to read this to understand what I'm feeling and why. After God had begun to bring me back up I added the last two lines to reflect the hope I felt. *

God's varied grace

January 7th marked a year since I knew something was wrong with my unborn baby and January 9th marked a year since we knew in much greater detail what was going on and that the outcome would likely be devastating. 

The 7th was also the day my nephew was born, and the 9th was the day of the memorial service for an 84 year old man from church. I could look at the timing of these two events as God not caring about my pain/sensitivity, or I can look at them as they are: God's unique grace to me by giving me something else to focus on. This past week I was able to serve my sister by watching some of her older kids during the labor and delivery of her baby boy, and this weekend I was able to serve by playing keyboard during the memorial service and preparing and serving food for the family afterwards. I was able to do the same thing for another funeral in February, shortly after losing Asa, and I will never forget the son of the man who died coming to thank me and offer his sympathy for my loss as well. It was such a blessing to me when there was a meal provided after Asa's memorial service, although strange to be on the receiving end. We tend to think that when we serve others they are the ones who get the blessing, but in my experience I receive just as much! I was so blessed recently to go caroling to some people I had not seen in months and to deliver food to someone who cannot get out. I am not sharing these acts of service to say I'm such a great example and you should copy me but to remind us that Jesus gave us an example of service (especially when He did the lowly job of washing the disciples' feet) and we should copy Him! He told the disciples, "But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many."(Matthew 20:26b-28)

Maybe you "don't cook" or you're "not musical" or you're "not good with kids". What are you good at? Or a better question, what can you do? Can you buy groceries and have them delivered to someone or drive them yourself? Can you send a card or letter? Can you buy flowers for someone? Can you send a gift card or order takeout to a favorite restaurant? These things don't require a special gifting or talent! But everyone does have a unique gift (or gifts). Maybe it's decorating, or organizing, or cleaning, or encouraging others, or teaching, or making people laugh, or making people feel welcome and loved. There are so many gifts and that's why the body of Christ is so beautiful when we're doing what we're created to do. "As each of you has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of God's varied grace" (1 Peter 4:10). Notice it says varied grace. God gives differently to each person and we should not envy the gifts someone else has but instead ask God to reveal ours and help us use them. So I challenge you this year to identify the areas you're gifted in and then give those back to God by glorifying Him and blessing others. You will not regret it!

As all the anniversaries of tests and procedures with Asa come and go it can be tempting to wallow in self pity, but the fact that I haven't really had time this past week has been a blessing in disguise. God has given me the grace to focus on others' needs instead of my own. This is God's strength being perfected in my weakness, this is Him bringing beauty out of the ashes and light into the darkness. Does this mean I don't ever feel depressed, hurt, or envious? Absolutely not! But God is miraculously making those moments less and less common (I can tell a lot of people are praying for me), and I am so excited to see how He continues His work in me as I take steps of obedience. Since it's only January I am filled with anticipation for what God can do in and through me this year. If I've learned anything from having Asa it's that I cannot put my hope in anything but Jesus. He is the only constant in my life who never lets me down. I am determined this year to not dwell on all the darkness around me but instead "let my light shine". So who's with me? Let's shine so brightly that many will see and be drawn to Jesus, the only source of true light and life.

The Best of Times And the Worst of Times

A year ago I posted about the journey from a miscarriage to getting pregnant again and anticipating the birth of another baby. I had no idea what was to come, only that I was in God's hands. If I had known what was about to happen I may not have been so confident in my faith. But the definition of faith is "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see".

I consider it a work of God that I have kept my faith through the darkest time of my life. It has almost been a year (11 months this week) since Asa was born still. Although I still have hope in my Savior and what He has done and will do, I also have more anger than I want to admit. It's something I've struggled with for most of my life but this year it has become painfully obvious (to me and my family). My pain, stress, hurt, and in many cases grief often drive me to lash out and hurt others which in turn makes me feel guilty and shameful. I know I am responsible for my actions and reactions and that there is a spiritual battle happening that I don't see but certainly feel. I know the enemy wants to use my pain to turn me away from God and at times I let him. I know God is not the enemy but there are times that believing He loves me is the hardest thing for me to do. In reality He has given me much more than I deserve (not to mention withholding the punishment I do deserve). At times I get reminders and glimpses of His love but I'm realizing more and more how hard it is to "remain in His love". There have been several books that have helped (along with the Bible, prayer, music, encouragement from others, etc.), but it is a constant fight. Needless to say I am on a journey that is far from over, but I am hopeful for what God will do when I surrender my "rights". "Rights" to comfort, understanding everything, getting my way, etc. There's a song that says "I've let go the need to know why, for You know better than I". This is my prayer, that I will let go.

I am thankful for the healing that has happened this year. After months of no progress with losing my pregnancy weight and feeling so defeated and like a stranger in my body I got help from a nutritionist and am finally within a few pounds of my pre pregnancy weight! With my first two boys I was not so concerned with losing the weight in a certain timeframe, but without a baby to hold it was so hard to accept that I still looked so different from my "normal self". It felt like a picture of all the hurt and trauma I was carrying and it was a constant reminder of what I didn't have. (Sidenote, realizing there are so few resources to help bereaved mothers get back in shape has made me want to make my own workout video!) So this process has been so much deeper than just losing 20+ pounds, I've let go of so much emotional baggage as well (which definitely played into not being able to lose the physical weight before). A huge part of the healing was when my husband and I were able to go to a retreat for couples who have lost a child. I can't put into words how much it helped us. My nutritionist used the word breakthrough for what it did to my weight loss journey (not to mention all the other ways it helped).

There is so much more to be done but I cannot downplay the miracles God has done in my life this year, not in spite of losing Asa but precisely because of it. He has given me joy for others who have been blessed with babies this year which would be impossible on my own. There are still mixed feelings but I am so thankful to watch others experience the joy of a new baby and even get to hold some of those babies. Over and over God has shown His strength in my weakness (it's no coincidence that my verse for the year was 2 Corinthians 12:9 which says, "my power is made perfect in weakness").

I guess my point in this post is the same as last year, God is the one writing my story and because of that I know it will be good in the end. As another song says "the story isn't over if the story isn't good". The beautiful thing about God is that He has a way of making the worst parts of our story seem like the best parts when we look back. The crazy thing about ending this year is that I have hope looking forward to next year because I DON'T KNOW what is coming. There's something unbelievably freeing about that. After the kind of year that no one (especially me) expected or wanted, I'd call that a miracle. I am so excited to see what God does as I continue to walk in faith. I know it sounds cliche to say I know who holds the future so instead I will say I know who holds me and has been holding me my whole life (just like He did Asa who is now safe from all the pain of this sinful world). "He will hold me fast, He will hold me fast, for my Savior loves me so, He will hold me fast". If He can carry me through this year, then how can I not trust Him with the next one?

https://youtu.be/936BapRFHaQ

...the beginning of another

I am finally picking up where my last post left off. The only way to put the last two and a half months into words is to say they have been life altering. Not only are we trying to pick up the pieces from losing our baby boy and go back to living as a family of four, but for a month and a half  we have been physically isolated as well as emotionally isolated because of the pandemic. In a time when I could use a lot of extra hugs the only people I can hug are my husband and two sons, and they are grieving too...

It has not been all bad, in fact we've had some of the best moments with each other during this time (as well as some of the worst). We've gotten into better routines and habits and made memories and improvements on our house. But going back to "normal" is not easy, in fact it's not even possible. Life will never be the same for any of us.

Yesterday, April 30th, marked three months since Asa was born and it still hurts every day that he's not here. We should be loving on him instead of starting a new house project. If he had made it to full term he would have been at least one month old now. I try to imagine what life would be like with him, but there are so many scenarios...would he be in the NICU for weeks or months? Would we be taking him to lots of doctor's appointments? Would we be learning how to care for a baby with special needs? Or would he be miraculously healed? If he was home with us I know we'd all be busy adoring him. His big brothers might fight over holding him and would be great helpers in taking care of him. His first laugh would probably be at something they did. We would thrill over the first time he reached for something, the first time he cooed, and the first time he smiled. There are so many firsts we won't see and that hurts so much. Instead of looking forward to firsts  I wonder about his "lasts". His last movement, his last breath, the last thing he heard. Honestly I am so thankful I don't know when they took place. I trust that he did not experience pain, and I am so thankful for that.

But now I am watching his six year old brother grieve and I am struggling to know how to help. At times he is fine talking about Asa but other times he doesn't even want his dad and me to talk about him or read the books that are supposed to be helpful for kids who've gone through loss. Going to the cemetery is too much for him and yesterday he didn't want to wear a certain shirt because it was what he wore when he came to see his baby brother in the hospital. I try to be gentle with him and I don't force him to do anything, but I do tell him that talking will actually make things easier in the long run. His three and a half year old brother is fine talking about Asa, he seems to enjoy remembering him. But I wonder how it will affect him as he gets older and understands more. I had a little bit of time to process what it might be like for my husband and me to lose our baby, but I had no idea what it would be like for the big brothers. The first big loss I went through was my Grandma, and I was 11. I can't imagine what it's like at six, let alone three. I just hope and pray it will make their faith strong and give them a maturity, wisdom, and empathy far beyond their years.

So, to sum up the past several weeks: they have been hard. And I mean HARD. But, I am not without hope. And my hope has nothing to do with whether we ever have another biological baby again (still waiting on further genetic testing to see if we could have a baby with the same conditions again), or whether we grow our family another way. My hope is in the promise that this "light momentary affliction [FYI, it does not FEEL light or momentary] is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison" (2 Cor. 4:17) and "the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." (Rom. 8:18)

I may or may not have been in my bed the past three hours and lost my temper with the person I love the most, but after reading those verses again I can't help but feel better. So I am going to get up and enjoy some time with the only people I can be with right now, after all they are pretty great. They deserve an award for sticking with me through my worst moments and loving me no matter what.

It has been a therapeutic process for me to type this and I sincerely hope that it helps whoever reads it too.

The end of a journey...

January 7th everything changed. The excitement and anticipation changed to fear and dread. I learned there was something seriously wrong with my baby, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. After a few weeks of feeling huge and uncomfortable and gaining more weight we found out it was all caused by a large amount of amniotic fluid. We also learned there was fluid in our baby's chest. On the 9th we learned there was also fluid in the head and there were issues with the baby's arms and legs (which explained why this baby's movement felt different than my others). Even though these issues explained my different experience with this pregnancy I had not been worried about those differences and had no reason to be worried before. After having a miscarriage I was anxious for weeks, even months, but that had started to subside and I actually let myself plan and prepare for a new baby. Over the next three weeks I had several appointments and tests and even a fluid reduction which helped me to be more comfortable during what would be my last week of carrying this baby. All the waiting and wondering and hoping ended on the 29th when I saw my baby's heart for the last time and this time it was not beating. I kind of knew before anyone told me. But I knew for sure when three people walked in to talk to me instead of one. I was thankful that as one of them said my baby had only known the feeling of being warm and safe and loved. They also told me not to blame myself because there was nothing I did or didn't do that caused this and there was nothing I could've done to change it. I tried to do my best to take care of myself and my baby and for seven months I was able to do that. I knew I didn't have to deliver my baby right away but I also knew carrying him or her any longer wouldn't change anything and it would just make me sad to look at my belly or have other people look at it and assume my baby was alive. So that night I was induced and I delivered my son the next morning. I am so thankful it was not a longer process, it was just over 12 hours from the time I was induced to the time I delivered Asa Warren into the world. I know several people expected a girl, but I was not surprised to have another boy.
I don't remember crying much that day, I was honestly just so thankful to hold him. To have the experience of labor and delivery and then hold him right away was all I wanted after I knew he had died. As Kyle has said we had the "best worst-case scenario". The nurse and doctor we had that day were wonderful and we felt so blessed to be able to make most decisions ourselves. I can see how God worked out every detail of the darkest days we've had. We were also so thankful to have family and friends at the hospital to meet him. Everyone I've shared pictures with has been so kind and told me how beautiful and precious he was and thanked me for sharing with them. I will share with anyone who would like to see and hear about him so don't be afraid to ask. Everyone knows parents can't help talking about their children and although I may not mention Asa to everyone I meet he is still my son and I will never forget him. I will always be thankful for the many months I was able to carry him and the hours I got to hold him. He brought us so much joy in his short life and I know it is not a coincidence that his name means "healer". Although we thought we would have him much longer he did in many ways heal our hearts after losing his brother or sister before him. I don't know what else God is going to do through his short life but  I know this is just the beginning. I told someone before he died that I was actually looking forward to seeing what God would do, whether it was the miraculous healing of my baby or what He could do through the loss of my baby.  God is so good at redeeming and restoring and I know He will do that for us as He has so many times before. I shared at the end of the year how God had used the miscarriage to teach me and show me many things and that as one of my favorite songs says "I know my pain will not be wasted, Christ completes His work in me". The fact that I am going through another, deeper, valley just tells me that God isn't done with me yet and if nothing else that I am going to do some much-needed growing and maturing. I never thought this is where I would be at 28 years old, but as I look back over my life so far all I can see is God's grace and mercy to me through everything. He owes me nothing and yet He has given me so much. Just the fact that He called me to Himself and has given me a desire to follow Him is beyond my comprehension. I fail Him every day but He remains faithful. When I am angry with Him and act like my plans are better and I don't deserve this He gently reminds me that all of us deserve much worse. He has shown so much love and mercy and He knows what it's like to lose a beloved son. Before I knew what January would hold I chose 2 Corinthians 12:9 as a "verse for the year" because I wanted to focus on grace. It says' "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.'
So if you see me and think I'm strong or brave or tough, please know that it's not me but Christ in me. If my life and Asa's life can point people to Jesus that's all I can ask. I said that if God healed my baby I would tell everyone about what He did and I was sure a miraculous healing would bring Him more glory. But now I find myself wanting to still tell everyone how good God is even though they probably think I've lost my mind, so maybe that is a miracle in itself. Having a nurse tell us we had encouraged her and helped her have more faith meant so much to me and reminded me that God can use anything and anyone. I have often doubted that God could use me to tell others about Him and now I am seeing this may be the best opportunity I've had. So if you want to honor our son's life then I would ask you to please seek to honor God. Asa never knew the pain and sin that exists in this world and I am so thankful for that, and I hope the fact that he is with his Creator will cause others to think more about eternity and live in light of it. I know I will continue to fail in this daily but that is my goal.

Journey to baby #4

After our miscarriage in October 2018 we hoped I would get pregnant again soon. I got to join my husband for a few days in Ireland in December 2018 (he was there for work) and that trip was just what we needed to have quality time together and begin healing. For the next several months we hoped I would be pregnant but month after month I wasn't. I thought I would be pregnant before the due date of the baby we lost, but that day came and went. A couple weeks later I got to go on a trip on my own that helped a lot with my healing process. After I came back I still had my rough moments but going through a book I was given and finding others to relate to through social media helped a lot. Through those months I tried to rely on and trust in God and enjoy my two sons and be thankful for them. I'm sure it would have been a lot harder if I didn't already have them. I know God used those months to grow me and because of that I wouldn't change anything. I'm also thankful I can empathize with so many others in a way I couldn't before. One of my favorite songs is "Christ is Mine Forevermore" and there's a line that says "I know my pain will not be wasted, Christ completes His work in me". It still brings tears to my eyes because the pain I experienced in losing my baby is still fresh in my mind and heart but I know God has used it and is still using it to do good.

A new chapter started on July 15th 2019 when I finally got the positive pregnancy test I'd been hoping and praying for for at least seven months. I was amazed and overwhelmed and of course somewhat scared knowing what happened the last time I was pregnant. My husband was thrilled and after several weeks when we started telling some family and friends, including our boys, they were too. Seeing how happy others were for us made it even better. But knowing what it's like to see pregnancy announcements after a loss or when you want to be pregnant but aren't I didn't know if I wanted to share the news publicly (on social media) or just wait until the baby comes in March (God willing). I finally decided to share on Christmas day because it's obvious in the family photo we took and I hoped it would encourage and bless others to know things may not happen the way we hope but God has a way of doing things at just the right time. (Some blessings about His timing are: I've had my younger son as my "baby" for a longer time and he's been able to grow and develop and enjoy this time as the youngest; I could take the trip in May to visit my sister while she was living in another state; we've gotten a lot of work done on our house this year that may not have happened if we had a baby in the spring; I've enjoyed being mom to my two boys and able to do so much more with them as they've gotten older.)

I have still had doubts and fears about this baby, even a little now at 27 weeks, but I decided at the beginning I would be thankful for every day of this pregnancy and try to enjoy it. I know God will take care of me even if things don't go the way I want or expect. I'm just trying to thank Him every day for this new life and to rest in His arms because there's no better place to be. He's writing my story so I know it will ultimately be good, and it will bring him honor and glory. In the end that's all I can ask for and all that matters.